


30 Day OTP Challenge - Magpie

by Resy_Lesy



Category: RWBY
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Gen, M/M, Magpie (RWBY)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-10-17 20:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 36,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17567153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resy_Lesy/pseuds/Resy_Lesy
Summary: A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.





	1. Day One - Holding Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter title should be enough to count as enough of a summary, hopefully. Obviously, all non-canon. I'll do my best to get each one done before February ends!

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, with a bar too full of people and too little class, with dim lights and cloudy glasses and the scent of smoke wafting through the rafters. Lingering passion and hazy conscience spelled the right type of lovely disaster for some, but for Roman Torchwick, it meant nothing more than a night away from Cinder and one less headache.

Or so he’d thought.

It was rare for the door to swing open and thunder shut, predated only by a strong scent of liquor; a scent even more potent than the drink currently being poured down the bar to his left. It was rarer still for the empty seat on his right to suddenly be occupied. The rarest thing of all came from the person in question, to wit Roman properly ignored such a presence.

An old flame, squandered away in sleepless nights and too much drink and just enough smoke so they wouldn’t see each other’s faces. Heady pain and a little pleasure and too much penitence to search each other out cursed their trysts, keeping them apart until the next time they each needed to forget every atrocity they committed under the guise of someone wiser.

It wasn’t hard to predict his order. Bourbon on the rocks in a wide-rimmed glass so it wouldn’t smack him in the face.

_Such a pretty face. . ._

Neither of them reacted to each other as the first round came for him, and the second for Roman. Neither of them spoke, even gave a glance, as the liquor vanished into the night. His gravelly voice, slurred hard with too much too soon already, ordered more. Roman merely pulled out a fresh cigar.

Roman spun on his stool, now facing the crowd in their plush red-velvet chairs and booths, gossiping and losing themselves in the heat of mistakes. _So many mistakes. . ._

Smoke curled into the rafters, and Roman pretended not to notice as Qrow spun around too. Mimicry was the highest form of flattery, after all.

He crossed his legs, right over left. It was only proper. Qrow followed suit. The sound of ice clinking as a glass was set down meant nothing.

Qrow let his right hand hang low in the space in between them. The other was occupied in supporting his head as his gaze swept across the room.

Everyone was drunk.

Roman let his left hand fall down, knuckles brushing against Qrow’s. His red eyes snapped over to Roman, before falling off to the wayside. Roman pretended not to notice Qrow’s frown. Roman kept his own bored gaze forward, posture perfectly leisurely. Only the tiniest of bitter smiles escaped Roman as the smoke and sound and sin obscured any sign of forlorn camaraderie between the pair.

And besides, it wasn’t like they were in Mistral, where anyone could make a donation to the Arachne Fund at any time they damned well pleased.

Qrow intertwined their fingers first, re-crossing his legs and leaning back on the bar. Roman blew out another puff of acrid smoke, closing his eyes.

There was a squeeze. A split second passed. Roman returned it.

Neither of them spoke, but they didn’t need to, anyways. Sometimes, it was just better to let it all get lost in the haze. They’d each learned that lesson a thousand times before in a thousand different ways.

Just their luck to need to learn it again.


	2. Day Two - Cuddling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a different style this time, being written more in a story-telling way instead of an artsy one. Hope it's not too jarring of a change. They're in an established relationship in this chapter.

Qrow shut the door to Roman’s penthouse with a sigh, rolling his shoulders and unhooking Harbinger from the small of his back. Taking care to lock the door, Qrow turned to the room at large, setting his jaw at the sight. If there was ever something he and Roman disagreed on, it was how much _stuff_ one needed to own. And Roman was ever ostentatious. He dropped Harbinger next to Roman’s cane, which was leaning on the brick of the penthouse’s fireplace. Qrow wouldn’t’ve been surprised if the damned thing had never been lit in the first place.

Roman lounged in the center of the room on his off-white couch like a diva, clicking through the channels of the TV perched atop the mantle. Qrow didn’t care to pay attention to whatever Roman was watching once he stopped.

“I’m back,” he said, as if it was necessary.

Roman slid his gaze over to Qrow, a small smirk playing on his lips. “I can see that. How was your mission?”

Qrow shrugged and headed off to the adjacent kitchen as Roman turned back to the TV. Qrow missed Roman’s grin widening as someone began babbling on the TV - not that Qrow cared to listen to it, anyways. “Mission happened. Not much more to say,” Qrow said, squatting down behind the island counter so he could open Roman’s drinks cabinet. “Killed some Grimm. Same old, same old.” He grabbed a bottle and stood, kicking the cabinet closed as he turned to another. Glasses rustled as Qrow sifted through them, eventually choosing one to his liking.

“Fascinating.”

Qrow turned back to face the living room, hoisting the bottle and glass. “Want some?”

“No, thank you.”

Qrow shrugged and set the bottle of scotch down, followed by the glass. It didn’t take long for him to uncork it and pour some out, filling the glass to his fancy before putting the bottle back in Roman’s cabinet. A sickening rumble later, several chunks of ice fell into his glass from Roman’s fridge, causing the kingpin to perk up and narrow his eyes at Qrow.

“Was that the Dust one or the filtered one?”

Qrow leaned back against the island counter, squinting a bit at the fridge’s panel before making his way back to Roman. “Filtered, I think. Why?”

“Dust prices,” Roman said, settling back down on the couch, one arm at an angle to support his head. “Saving it for if I ever have company.”

A million different possibilities ran through Qrow’s mind at that, causing a grimace to form on his face. “Lovely,” he muttered, before leaning over the back of the couch to stare down at Roman. “Isn’t that your fault, anyways?”

Roman waved him off. “Details, details.”

Qrow blew out a puff of air, flicking his gaze up to Roman’s TV. There was an auction show on, with a roundtable of different gems, necklaces, rings, and bracelets. The man on the show was currently trying to sell the viewers on some kind of multi-colored sapphire chain.

The address of the auction house was in the bottom left of the screen.

“ **No** ,” Qrow said, glaring down at Roman. Roman looked up at Qrow, fake innocence shining from his emerald eye.

“Hm?~”

Qrow lightly bapped Roman’s head, doubling down on his frown. “I said ‘no’.”

“Oh, come on, they’re so pretty,” Roman replied, one hand coming up to fix his hair. “I’m sure they wouldn’t miss a few.”

“What would you even do with them?” Qrow asked, taking a tired sip of his scotch.

“Give ‘em to you,” Roman teased, smirking. “Saw a nice few silver rings a minute or two ago.”

Qrow huffed and took another swig. “Still no.”

He blinked, taking himself out of his glass as he felt Roman’s hand grab his shirt by the lapel. Qrow’s eyes found Roman’s, mischievous and mesmerizing and all sorts of sultry. “Get down here then, and convince me not to.”

Qrow grinned, his lips curling up into a wolfish smile. “No problem.”

He pulled back from Roman’s grip, making his way around the couch and passing in front of Roman’s view of the TV. Qrow set his drink down on the low crystal table -also probably stolen, who was he kidding- and flipped himself into Roman’s lap, now straddling the younger man.

“How’s this?”

Roman’s only reply was to grab Qrow by the collar again, pulling him down and into a kiss. “Mmm~. Acceptable.”

Qrow fake-pouted as he broke from the kiss, crossing his arms as he leaned back on Roman’s thighs. “Only acceptable?”

“Lay with me.”

Qrow rolled his eyes but shimmied into position, kicking his shoes off as he did so. Roman _hated_ it when shoes got on the furniture. ‘Case in point,’ Qrow thought, as Roman wrapped his right leg around Qrow’s own, not a boot to be found. Qrow sighed and laid his head on Roman’s chest, flicking his gaze back over to the TV.

“Can you _at least_ not plan robberies when I’m here?” Qrow asked, beleaguered, as Roman wrapped an arm around his torso. Qrow wiggled a bit, getting into a more comfortable position as their bodies intertwined in the softest type of intimacy.

“What would you prefer?” Roman replied, picking up the remote once more.

Qrow glanced over to the clock in the kitchen, hm-ing a bit. “It’s about like, twenty-one hundred, right? I think the good horror movies come on around now. I’ve always loved those.”

Roman pretended the light shiver at the utterly delighted tone Qrow’s voice had taken on hadn’t happened. “Never took you for the horror type,” he said delicately, passing over the remote so Qrow could flip through the channels and find one he liked. The Huntsman immediately punched a few buttons and brought up the menu, heading for the search icon.

“Oh, yeah. Liked ‘em since I first saw ‘em in Beacon. Had loads of fun mocking all the characters with Rae. Like, seriously, just _dodge_!” Qrow cracked a genuine smile and switched his gaze back over to Roman, whose expression had turned to one of decided indifference. Qrow’s own face fell in return, a small, resigned note entering his voice. “What, you don’t like horror?”

“I simply don’t see the point in causing more terror when the Grimm already exist,” Roman said, shrugging and resettling on the couch. He waved an imperious hand. “Do as you please.”

“Oh, come on, don’t bullshit me,” Qrow retorted, setting the remote down, turning his neck slightly to gaze up at Roman. “You’re a major criminal, you can’t rea -” Qrow cut himself off, eyes going wide with realization. “Oh, by the Brothers.”

Qrow’s smirk just _begged_ to be slapped off of him, and Roman barely resisted the temptation. “Can’t what?” Roman asked, doing his best to remain detached in voice and body. It didn’t work.

“You’re scared of horror movies.”

He froze. “I am _not_ -”

“Oh, you totally are. That’s _adorable_. Roman Torchwick, criminal mastermind extraordinaire, can’t handle horror.”

“Shut up,” Roman hissed, turning an undignified shade of red that he would forevermore swear hadn’t happened. “I just don’t like them.”

Qrow, the _bastard_ , hadn’t stopped smiling. “Aww, babe, that’s fine,” he said, grin growing even more wicked. “I’ll protect you.~”

It took everything Roman had not to shove Qrow off of him, and then, for good measure, shove Qrow off the balcony only a few sweet feet away. But, knowing him, Qrow would survive by some insane feat that Roman could never hope to understand, and then be back minutes later to torment him again. So instead, Roman chose to grit his teeth and turn his head away from Qrow’s mirth-filled gaze.

Maybe if he did it several times, Qrow’d run out of Aura. But then, how to convince Qrow to fall for it twice. . .

Qrow touched Roman’s still-pinkened cheek, interrupting that murderous train of thought and causing Roman to cut his eyes back over to him. Qrow’s smile was gentler, now, but that didn’t mean Roman trusted it for any more than a split second. “You’re pretty cute when you’re embarrassed, y’know that?”

He should’ve shoved him. “Go fuck yourself.”

Qrow chuckled, low and dark, before sitting up and stretching. “Thought that was your job,” he teased, before picking the remote up and finally selecting a movie. Qrow stood, and Roman was quick to sit up in riposte, swatting at Qrow’s rear. Qrow shot a smirk over his shoulder at Roman as he walked over to the light-switch, flicking it off and plunging the room into the natural Valian darkness. “Don’t worry,” Qrow said as he returned, plopping a kiss on Roman’s head as he sat on the kingpin’s left. “You’re cute all the time.”

Roman rolled his eyes as Qrow shuffled down on the couch, now laying flat with his legs wrapped around Roman’s waist. Taking his cue, Roman thusly laid down on Qrow, his head over the Huntsman’s heart. Unfortunately for Roman, that angle gave him ample view of the TV, which now had the introductory credits rolling. He took that chance to shuffle into a more comfortable position, pointedly ignoring Qrow’s inane smirk and the ominous music.

“What’s wrong? Seen this one before?” Qrow asked, reaching over to grab his drink and finish it off.

“Why would I watch something I don’t like?” Roman retorted, before sighing. “No, I haven’t. _Which is the problem_.”

Qrow set his empty glass down, and Roman gave a thankful sigh that Qrow had at least used one of the coasters already on his table. As cheap as free was, crystal wasn’t exactly easy to come by. “I’ve got you,” Qrow said, wrapping his left arm around Roman.

“How reassuring.”

Qrow rolled his eyes, threading his legs through Roman’s in what was clearly both a sweet attempt at comfort, and a nefarious attempt at trapping him. “You’ll be fiiiiine, pumpkin.”

Roman merely hmpf’d in return, resigning himself to a night of flinching and cursing and _maybe_ just kicking Qrow out of revenge. If Roman got out of this with any stress marks, he was kicking Qrow out for a week, at _least_.

Roman repressed a shiver as the movie itself began, burrowing himself in Qrow’s embrace. At least he was doing all the proper good boyfriend things - holding him tight, rubbing his back, warning him when the scariest parts would come on.

Maybe, just maybe, Qrow had been right.


	3. Day Three - First Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank my good friend Cloudsleeper/HiroshiPotato for helping me edit the fight scene, since those types of scenes aren't my strong suit just yet. I'd also like to thank the people who left reviews - I wasn't sure that these ficlets would get traction at all since it's such a rarepair. The positive feedback really inspired me to keep coming up with ideas! However, chapter four - "A Date" - might take me a bit longer to create, since nothing immediately comes to mind. But I don't doubt that I'll figure something out! I'm also thinking of including this scene in an AU fic of them I plan to write, so if there's any similarities in the future, there's why!

“Uh, sir?”

Roman sighed, closing his eyes. _Every damn time he tried to slip away for a moment of peace. . ._ Slowly, he lowered his lighter, removing the fresh cigar from his lips. Roman unclenched his jaw and turned around, turning the corner to walk back to the scene of his most recent crime. A Faunus was standing nervous in front of him, damn near quaking in her boots. Perry stood next to her, rolling his eyes behind his thick glasses. Several of their companions were loading boxes of Dust into a get-away truck.

“What could _possibly_ be so import -” Roman began to ask, twirling his cigar in his fingers. He didn’t get a chance to finish his question.

“There’s been a Huntsman sighting in this area,” Perry said, interrupting him and getting right to the point. If there was any Faunus Roman liked, it was Perry. He didn’t waste any time and did the job right from the beginning.

“How?” Roman hissed, eyes narrowing. He shoved his cigar and lighter in his pocket, pulling out his Scroll a moment later.

“W-we think it was civilian,” the other Faunus, some type of horned thing, reported. “Jade saw a curtain flash and the current suspicion was that the person called the police, who called in the Hunter."

“Fantastic,” Roman muttered, pulling up Cinder’s contact and sending her a quick message to update her on the situation. He snapped his gaze back up at Perry, now frowning. “Grab whatever else you can and be out of here within the next five minutes. You leave, or I leave you for the Hunter.”

Roman spun on his heel, not even bothering to catch Perry’s nod as he led the other Faunus back to the truck. He had an area to search.

 

The streets were too calm for Roman’s liking. Normally, there was some drunk or some prostitute or some idiot kid sneaking home from a night at a friend’s house that went on too long. Faunus running from hate crimes. Police patrol. Hunters-in-Training learning the city.

Fucking _anything_ except utter stillness.

Roman cursed under his breath and sighed, placing his head in his palm. Maybe it’d been a false alarm. It wasn't like it’d _hurt_ them to get away from a crime scene as quickly as possible. Roman gave one last glancing sweep of the area before beginning to make his way back to his robbery.

The truck wasn’t there.

Roman paused, blinked, and refused to run. Very slowly, cane clacking with every step, Roman took purposeful strides to where the vehicle had been parked. Tire tracks clearly led in the direction of where their base lay, and there was no scent of blood nor sight of body.

But there _was_ the distinct feeling that he was being watched.

Roman stood to his full height, taking careful consideration of the buildings around him. Brick with no sign of a struggle. A flock of birds on the rafters. Drawn curtains and barely a breeze to be found. A broken window, his expert work. Which the Faunus had left him to take the fall for. Bastards.

Keeping his back to the wall, Roman slipped down the alley his truck had taken, navigating his way to the center of the alley-scape. Roman had known the backstreets of Vale for years, committing them to memory as soon as he had made his way into the city-state to make his mark. The flock of birds took to the sky.

Roman took a right as sirens began to blare in the distance, mentally mapping his way through the city. He needed the quickest, safest route. . .

One that, preferably, didn’t have him being followed. Roman turned, raising Melodic Cudgel in his hands at the last possible second to block the incoming blow. He slid backward several feet, but remained standing as his assailant landed on the ground just where Roman himself had stood not a moment ago. Roman frowned, switching Melodic Cudgel into his right hand and tilting his head back to get a better view of the man now in front of him.

“So you’re the Hunter.”

Roman didn’t get an answer as the man charged him, bouncing off of the wall to slam into him once more. Roman smirked, going on the defensive and parrying every strike that was thrown at him. He grunted as he was shoved back several more feet by a powerful blow, setting his jaw after the impact had rocked through him and his weapon. It was an unfortunate situation for Roman; the red-eyed man had an advantage in reach, height, and strength. Probably experience too, as he stood back, smirking in his own right. Roman had little options left.

“Let me guess. You’re not gonna let me go, are you?”

He still didn’t speak, pausing only to frown before lunging at Roman at a blinding clip that he barely managed to dodge. Roman stabbed with Melodic Cudgel, aiming for the kidneys. The man practically pirouetted, slipping past his jab and countering with a kick to Roman’s head.

Roman leaned back, letting the kick sail past his head. The man immediately brought his sword down, aiming to cleave Roman’s chest in two. Roman dropped to the ground, rolled to the side, and let the ground itself take the blow. The concrete shattered, and Roman leapt to his feet, not hesitating to open Melodic Cudgel’s scope and fire off a shot at point-blank range.

Roman didn’t wait to see if the blast had landed, peeling off into the leftmost alleyway. Police sirens rang in his ears as his explosion rocked through the buildings, shaking foundation and dust loose.

He slid to the left as a sword swept through the night air, slamming into a wall and letting his Aura tank the impact. Roman’s hand came up and gripped his upper right arm, the cloth of his jacket now in tatters. At least it hadn’t broken skin.

The Hunter stood opposite to him, and Roman only smiled at him before taking off once more. Several shots rang into the night, and Roman snapped back into position, his cane blocking each bullet before they could hit him. The Hunter snapped his sword back into proper position, and Roman didn’t bother looking down either alley, not that he had the time to. The Hunter shot forward again, and Roman raised Melodic Cudgel to parry the strike.

He snapped back a riposte to the head, turning the Hunter’s blade to the side so he couldn’t counter Roman’s jab. At the same time, Roman kicked his leg up, aiming for the Hunter’s side. Neither blow landed, as the Hunter leapt backward, bringing his sword back up at the same time, pointed right at Roman’s throat.

Melodic Cudgel was raised at the same moment, their weapons inches from each other and their arms parallel. Roman moved first, setting off a firework in the Hunter’s chest. He ducked under the sword before it could slice into his neck, and darted down the right alley.

Roman didn’t make it far.

Hell, he didn’t even get a chance to turn around.

The Hunter slammed into the back of his knee, moving faster than Roman could’ve ever expected him to be able to. Roman fell flat on his back, his forward momentum turned against him. Before he could kip up to his feet, the Hunter was on top of his lap, breathing labored. He didn’t have his weapon -Roman took that as a small victory-, but it didn’t matter. As Roman had expected, the Hunter was much, much stronger than he. Roman’s arms were pulled up and above his head, one hand on each side of his skull, pinned down at the wrists.

“Well, aren’t you kinky,~” he teased, unable to look away from the Hunter’s burning red eyes. “Do I at least get your name?”

The Huntsman paused, glancing over to the side. “Qrow Branwen. Doesn’t matter.”

Well, now he had a name. Roman smirked, and Qrow only pressed him harder into the ground. The sirens grew closer, their whine cutting through the night and piercing his ears. Roman winced slightly, before giving Qrow an innocent smile.

“You know, I’m not sure the police will enjoy finding us like this.~”

“Don’t think I’ll just let you g -”

Roman leaned up, cutting Qrow off before he could finish his threat. Qrow’s hands went slack around Roman’s wrists, and Roman took the opportunity to free a hand and wrap it around the back of Qrow’s head, keeping him in the kiss. Roman slid out from under Qrow, now kneeling in front of him. Qrow remained in the same position, eyes opening in shock as Roman moved Qrow’s hands in-between their bodies, now pinning _him_. Roman pulled back, slightly breathless as Qrow kneeled there in open-mouthed shock.

“I -”

“Nice meeting you,” Roman said, smoothly sliding to his feet and taking a few steps back. He reached down and grabbed Melodic Cudgel, eyes heavy with lust. Roman licked his lips, swinging his hips as he moved into the darkness of the alleyway. Roman shot a glance over his shoulder, unable to keep a smirk from forming as he saw Qrow reach up to his lips with trembling fingers.

“Maybe I’ll be seeing you around, _chickadee_.~”


	4. Day Four - A Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here! \o/  
> I had some slight trouble with this one, but I'm glad I got it out in time, and I'm proud of the end result. Hope y'all enjoy it.

_Monday, February 4th, PGW78, King’s Park, Commercial Section of Vale, 0:12 Hours._

 

A small ‘thump’ echoed in the night, breaking the stillness of the trees with the rustle of branches and stirring of leaves. Roman Torchwick looked up from his Scroll, eyes narrowing as he sat atop a blanket on a small hill in the center of the park. He raised an eyebrow as the noise continued. _Crunch, crunch, crunch_ went the careless, confident footsteps, a mocking act of incompetence for anything too stupid to attack.

It wasn’t like the Hunter’s Guild allowed any Grimm to leak in from Forever Fall to King’s Park, anyways, but Roman couldn’t begrudge Qrow for trying to bait out any attackers. ‘ _It’s not like I’d do any different_ ,’ Roman thought with a small, tight smile. It soon blossomed into something more, however, as the Hunter himself emerged from the underbrush. Qrow’s hands were stuffed in his pockets and his lips were twisted in his usual pouty frown. Qrow’s gaze swept across the park, and once his eyes landed on Roman he jerked his chin up as if it passed as some form of proper greeting.

Roman sat up straight, setting his Scroll to the side as he raked his eyes up and down Qrow’s form. Qrow’s sword hung heavy on his back, but what else was he to expect? Melodic Cudgel was only an arm’s reach away from Roman himself, after all. Roman grinned up at Qrow, motioning the Huntsman closer with his left hand and patting the empty space next to him with his right. “Well, fancy seeing you here. I almost didn’t expect you to come.”

Qrow didn’t disappoint. “I’m alone,” he affirmed, eyes narrowing. “Just like you asked.”

“What, would you prefer company?” Roman asked, turning up his nose with a scoff.

Qrow set his jaw, sighing and shifting his stance. “Right,” he conceded, glancing around one last time before heading up the slight incline to meet Roman. King’s Park had been established as an area in honor of the late King of Vale after the Great War, with fountains and pathways and secluded little groves - just like this one. Qrow couldn’t help but sigh as he lowered himself next to Roman, tossing his head back and gazing up at the sky. Shattered moonlight fell on them both, bathing the clearing in a dappled silver sheen.

“So, what do you want?” Qrow asked after a moment had passed, cutting his eyes over to Roman. The kingpin merely shrugged in response, leaning back on his hands and staring up at the moon, mimicking Qrow’s pose.

“Just wanted to spend some time with you,” Roman answered after a pause, not really meeting Qrow’s eyes. “It’s not like there’s much time we can get to ourselves.” He gestured to a small basket on his left, and Qrow peered around Roman’s torso to see a bottle of wine in a bag and two glasses. His lips twitched up in a smile; as much as Qrow didn’t trust Roman, the man at least knew how to get him happy.

“As much as I don’t wanna be doing this, I’ll take a glass,” Qrow said, leaning back and pretending not to notice the flash of resignation in Roman’s eye. As Roman poured, Qrow got a good look at the man’s back. For once, his signature coat was cast by the wayside, leaving Roman in a tight black shirt that was _very_ kind to his muscular structure. But that didn’t detract from the pale slope of his neck, the flash of hip as his shirt rode up when he bent over to grab the drink, the gentle curve of his ear. . .

Qrow shook his head, taking a breath and trying to clear his thoughts. Everything about this was _wrong_ , there were no bones about it, yet the truth remained: Roman Torchwick was an unfairly attractive man. Qrow sighed as he accepted the glass of wine from Roman, fighting back a shiver as their Auras brushed over each other. Gods, his was so _warm_.

Qrow downed half his glass in one go, ignoring the huff of annoyance from Roman, who, in turn, had politely sipped his own. “You’re _supposed_ to savor it,” he scolded, which Qrow also ignored.

“If you brought me here to get me tipsy, you’re gonna need a lot more than that,” Qrow said, shooting Roman a sleazy smile. “Grigio isn’t gonna get me drunk.”

Roman’s mouth fell open into a surprised little ‘o’, his head snapping back over to the bottle. “I - how did you know that!” he demanded, swiveling back to Qrow, confusion shining in his eye. Yet Qrow could still see the slight tinge of awe buried deep behind that emerald sheen.

“I know what I’m about, and this -” Qrow hefted his half-empty glass, “tastes like lime.” Qrow leaned back, now half lying down, and took another sip. “Figured it had to be Grigio.” He raised an eyebrow at Roman, lips set in a confused frown and brows furrowing. “I would’ve taken you more for a Chardonnay fan, actually.”

“Too common,” Roman shot back with a scowl, before taking a sip of his own drink. He lowered his glass, letting his eyes wander over Qrow’s body. A wry smile slipped onto his lips. “I have, ah - _unique_ tastes.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty fuckin’ unique,” Qrow muttered sourly, downing another fourth of his wine. Roman rolled his eyes and put his own glass aside, reaching into the basket to grab the bottle and top off Qrow’s. As he did so, Qrow met Roman’s eyes, nearly causing him to spill the drink from the intensity of his gaze. An embarrassed silence later, Roman had corked the bottle and put it back, hiding his slight blush. “I have a question,” Qrow said when Roman finally picked up his glass again, getting the man to focus all his attention on the Hunter laid before him.

“Go on,” Roman said, raising an imperious eyebrow. He took another sip.

“Why me? Out of all the people you know, why ask a _Huntsman_ on- on -” Qrow floundered for a moment before finding his words. “On what’s basically a moonlit _date_?”

Roman flushed now, and Qrow barely restrained a curse. He could only hope it was the wine getting to him more than he expected, even though Qrow knew that couldn’t be true. He’d only had what, a glass and a half? No, the truth was, quite simply, that in the moonlight and wine and such a lovely shade of red, Roman Torchwick of all people looked downright amazing.

_Gods, if only Qrow could turn him that shade. . ._

Roman was speaking, and Qrow pulled himself out of his lustful trance to pay attention. Roman traced the edge of his glass with a finger - ungloved for once. Roman’s hands were pale and thin, belying the strength and dexterity Qrow knew they possessed. “ - and I’m not the type of man to resist temptation,” Roman finished, flicking his gaze back up to Qrow.

There was a slight smile there. Qrow returned it.

Qrow held up his glass for a fake toast, and Roman clinked his own against it with a musical chime.

The glass didn’t break.

Qrow let his eyes flutter shut in relief, breathing out a sigh before taking another sip. There’d been too many close calls already, putting Qrow on a dangerous edge. He rubbed his eyes, downing more of his drink so he didn’t have to think about it and spiral even deeper. Emotions to Aura to Semblance to him fucking up to -

“Want more?” Roman asked, breaking Qrow out of his spell. Qrow blinked and looked up, holding out his glass out once again. Grateful for the opportunity to simply _not think_ , Qrow leaned on one arm, parallel to the ground as he stared at Roman. ‘The man’s a damned tempter,’ Qrow thought, unable to resist leering as Roman shifted, grabbing the bottle so he could pour him more. Roman turned back, now cross-legged to keep the glass still as he let the wine flow, and Qrow pretended that Roman wasn’t sitting like that on purpose.

“Might as well keep the bottle out,” Roman teased as he passed the glass back. Qrow smiled up at him, taking a drink before setting it down. Roman gently topped off his own before setting the bottle aside, and shimmying down to lay next to Qrow.

Qrow grinned back, but it didn’t last. “I -” he fell silent and sighed, looking down at the blanket he and Roman were atop.

“Let me guess,” Roman began, speaking for him. Qrow’s gaze flicked up. Roman’s bittersweet smile gave him nothing to work with, but his words more than filled in the gaps. “We’re on different sides, and we can’t see each other.”

“Pretty much,” Qrow affirmed, grabbing his glass and swallowing more down. Something inside him burned, and it wasn’t poison.

“I raise another option. We don’t.”

Qrow’s brow furrowed, and he sat up slightly, shoving his glass to the side. Some sloshed on the blanket, but he didn’t care. “Isn’ tha -”

Before Qrow continued his slurred sentence, Roman’s hand touched his cheek. He too had set his glass aside, and Qrow blinked as Roman held his chin. “I propose we do _this_ ,” Roman said, and before Qrow got a question out, Roman’s lips had met his.

Just like with their first kiss, Qrow went slack in Roman’s grip. However, before he even reacted, Roman had pulled back. “And nothing more. Meet up. Fuck. Go about our business.”

Heat rose in Qrow’s cheeks. “Who said I’d fuck you?”

Roman’s predatory smile sent a thrill through Qrow in a way he hadn’t even known was possible. “I like your thinking, _chickadee_ ,” he teased with a wink. Something intense, hot, an ultimately unfamiliar gathered in Qrow’s chest, skipping a beat in his heart and drying his mouth. Roman kept talking without a care in the world. “Don’t pretend like you weren’t looking. I know I’m fantastic. So, I say we have our fun and go about our merry way, with none the wiser.” Roman looked down at Qrow, who licked his lips reflexively in thought. “We’re both the type of man to keep secrets, Qrow Branwen.”

“I -”

“I’m not saying agree _now_ ,” Roman interrupted, before Qrow shot him down. “Just an option.” His voice changed from grandiose to gentle, and that visible eye with the expert mascara softened. Roman looked over to the side. “Something to consider.”

“. . . I can consider it,” Qrow decided, after a pause. He shot a smirk up at Roman. “I’m taking the rest of the Grigio as insurance, though.”

Roman’s laugh wasn’t as maniacal as the witnesses described it. Low and deadly, sure, but a hint of genuine entertainment colored his mirth, and the smile he gave in Qrow tugged one out of his lips in return. “You can have it,” Roman reassured. “But I want another kiss.”

“I think that can be arranged.~”


	5. Day Five - Kissing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this out within the last ten minutes of EST? Yes it is. Is it lovely? I sure hope so.

Unlike the rest of Vale, Roman Torchwick’s study was a quiet place. The large room, what with its plush cream carpet and deep oaken furniture, spoke volumes about Roman’s expensive taste. Shelved books lined left wall, but the right was all glass; ornate metalwork lined the panes and kept the structure sound, but also allowed the soft mid-morning sunlight to stream into the office. Unfortunately, the atmosphere of the Upper Class District wasn’t something Roman was in the mood to enjoy. Instead, the kingpin sat in his chair behind his deck, head in the palms of his hands. Cinder, as usual, was being a right pain in the ass.

Roman groaned and threw his head back, pushing his chair away from his desk and standing. He needed a smoke, his report be damned. Cinder could learn to wait a few hours. Roman swept out from behind his desk, not bothering to push his chair in. With the door slamming behind him, Roman exited his study and made his way down the small hallway. He took the white wrought iron steps two at a time, stalking through the main lounge of his penthouse and out to his balcony.

Qrow looked up from the couch, sitting up from where he’d been lounging. “Babe?” he called out, setting his drink down on Roman’s crystal table. “You alright?”

Roman waved him off, sliding open the door to his balcony and stepping outside. Qrow watched Roman pull out his lighter as the door shut, and then one of his Atlesian cigars. Frowning, Qrow stood, rolling his shoulders back and stuffing his hands in his pockets. Might as well check up on him, right?

“Heyyy, pumpkin,” Qrow said cautiously, sliding open the door after Roman. He’d given Roman a few minutes to himself before following, and Roman had taken that time to lean over the railing. Ash fell from his cigar, scattering in the wind. “Everything okay?”

With a soft clack, the sliding glass door closed behind Qrow, and he made his way over to Roman. He sighed as he leaned over the railing, taking a quick look behind him. Thank the Brothers, the doors hadn’t cracked. Qrow braced his elbow on the railing and his hand on his chin, cutting his gaze back to Roman.

If Qrow was being frank, Roman looked terrible. His mascara was smudged, and deep bags hung under his eye. Instead of answering Qrow’s question, he took another drag of the cigar. Roman blew the smoke out into the Valian sky, staring into it as if it would answer for him.

“Roman?” Qrow asked again.

The man in question dropped his head, his hair swinging in front of his face so he didn’t have to look Qrow in the eye. “Nothing we can talk about,” Roman muttered, pushing himself to his full height and taking another drag of tobacco.

Qrow frowned, turning to the cityscape at large and leaning over the railing. Roman’s penthouse really had a great view; it faced the ocean between Solitas and Sanus, and if Qrow looked to his right, he could see the vague outline of Beacon, standing proud over all of Vale. But the skyline alone couldn’t serve to distract him from the heavy reminder that he and Roman, were, for all intents and purposes, still enemies.

Qrow groaned and ducked his head, wishing he had something to bang it against. His drink still laid on the table inside, though. . . ‘Small mercies,’ Qrow decided, standing up again. As he turned back to the door, he saw Roman leaned against the brick wall, arms and legs crossed with his cigar hanging loose in his fingers. Damn. He’d come out to comfort Roman, not just visit and fuck off.

Qrow wet his lips and sighed, leaning back-first against the railing. “Anything I can do?”

Roman shrugged.

“Helpful,” Qrow muttered, staring down at the street below. A few couples milled about, and sleek cars raced along the slicker streets. Qrow blinked as a small eureka moment hit him, and he turned to Roman with a smile. He jerked his head in the direction of the lounge. “Want a pick-me-up?”

Roman refocused on him and shook his head. “Sorry, chickadee, can’t afford to get drunk right now.”

“Waaasn’t exactly referring to that kind,” Qrow said, approaching Roman until they stood chest-to-chest. Qrow’s usual sleazy smile was in place, and one hand found Roman’s hip. The other grabbed Roman’s right wrist, and he smiled back. There was a sizzle, and some ash fell onto the slate beneath their feet. Qrow’s grip slackened, and Roman slipped the cigar back in his pocket. No amount of Huntsman was going to make him waste an Atlesian cigar.

“I think I have a bit of time,” Roman allowed, wrapping his now-free hands around Qrow’s neck. It didn’t take long for the Hunter to initiate a kiss, pressing their lips together before Roman could say anything else.

The taste of tobacco and passionfruit always followed Roman, and today was no different. Over time, Qrow had gotten used to the flavors - they were so distinctly _Roman_ that any other combination would’ve taken him aback.

His technique, on the other hand, always left Qrow gasping. The hand on Roman’s hip had been pinned between their bodies, his left soon following. Roman’s strength had never failed to surprise Qrow, especially since his hands had the appearance of a delicate maiden’s. Just one of his hands had enough strength to keep Qrow’s together, and the other was busy holding his head in place. Qrow wouldn’t’ve had it any other way, tilting his head to the side to allow Roman access to his neck.

“Gods, can you take this inside?” Qrow whimpered as Roman moved down toward his chest. If anything pleased Roman about Qrow’s sloppy outfit, it was the fact that his undone shirt gave him plenty of easy access whenever Roman pleased.

Smirking, Roman drew back, eyeing Qrow with a gleam as he dropped his hands. Something mischievous shone in that emerald sheen, and Qrow barely had time to follow as he recollected himself. He’d never get over how good a kisser Roman was. “Sure,” Roman said, smooth as a whistle. He slipped past Qrow, pausing only to press another quick peck against his lovers lips. Roman swept open the door, tossing a smile over his shoulder. Qrow gaped at him, utterly betrayed. He hadn’t meant _leave him outside_!

“You were right, chickadee. I really did need that.~”


	6. Day Six - Clothes Swap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The entire premise of this chapter is that Roman and Qrow seem to wear the exact same type of black dress pants. It's also a bit shorter than the rest, but hopefully the next chapter -'A Third Wheel'- will be longer.

Roman groaned and slid out from under his covers, sitting on the edge of his bed and stretching in the chilled evening air. Conversely, on the other side of his half-poster bed, Qrow rolled over and pressed his face into a pillow, groaning into the feathered down. Roman barely resisted a smirk at the sight, choosing instead to reach over and shake his bedmate by the shoulder.

“Come on, we might as well get up,” Roman scolded, yet didn’t put any real effort in his tone. His own muscles ached - the good kind of sore that would linger for the next few hours. Roman knew Qrow had gotten the worst -or the best, depending on how one looked at it- of their tryst a few hours ago, but that didn’t give him the right to sleep the evening away and leave Roman by his lonesome. “We still need to eat, Qrow.”

One long-suffering groan later, Qrow had rolled out of bed and was searching amongst the pristine carpet. Roman paid him no mind, too busy pulling on his own pair of pants.

He blinked, however, as the trousers ended up far too long in the leg. “Shit,” Roman muttered under his breath, shoving the pants off. “Qrow,” he called over his shoulder with a put-upon sigh. How could he have forgotten they undressed on his side of the bed? “I accidentally gra -” Roman paused as he turned around to address Qrow, cocking his head. With not a care in the world, Qrow had put on Roman’s pants, and while they were short on him, they also happened to hug his ass in fantastic fashion.

Roman decided to shut up.

“Hm?” Qrow asked, his voice slurred from sleep. “Wassup?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Roman said, placing the trousers on the bed and moving over to his dresser. “We just swapped pants by mistake.” He waved Qrow off before the older man could speak, grabbing a pair of black sweatpants from Qrow’s drawer. Roman wasn’t going to dirty any of his own dress pants, but he was more than fine with wearing some of Qrow’s comfortable clothes. “You can wear them.”

“Oh. Uh, thanks, I guess,” Qrow mumbled, then yawned and stretched. “Mind if I take your shirt, too? It’s closer.”

Roman shrugged and stood back up, tugging on the sweatpants. He turned around, only to grin as he witnessed Qrow pull his black, knitted shirt over his head. Qrow really was a handsome man, and Roman appreciated how every inch of his shirt showed off Qrow’s muscular frame. Even with messy, sexed-up bedhead, Qrow had a certain charm about him.

Qrow nodded at Roman in thanks, never being the type to talk after just waking up. He tossed his own shirt at Roman as he rounded the bed, grabbing _his_ pants and tossing them in the hamper that stood just inside the ensuite bathroom door.

Roman raised an eyebrow. “What, you want me to wear this?”

“Matches your scarf. Gray works,” Qrow called over his shoulder, heading into the bathroom. The faucet had evidently been turned on, as the sound of running water reached Roman’s ears.

“It’s an _ascot_ ,” Roman corrected with a frown, but pulled on Qrow’s shirt nonetheless. His clipped-on cape hung over a chair, but Roman didn’t bother to grab it, choosing to do up the buttons instead. He leaned in the doorway, finishing up the buttons as he spoke. “Should we make dinner? I think I have some leftover Atlesian char.”

Qrow stood to his full height and stretched a second time, and Roman couldn’t help but leer. “Sounds good. You still have that Prosecco?”

“I should, unless you drank it all when I wasn’t looking.”

Qrow shot him a cocky smirk and sidled out of the bathroom, rolling his shoulders back. “I’ll pour us a few glasses, then.~”

Roman rolled his eyes and headed into the bathroom to freshen up. He stopped to look at himself in the mirror, a small smile slipping onto his face. While it most certainly wasn’t his usual fashion sense -in fact, it looked rather sloppy-, Roman couldn’t help but enjoy the classic ‘boyfriend look’. Roman reached a hand up to fix his hair, sighing as he drank in Qrow’s scent.

Alcohol, musk, and the slight tang of blood that Qrow hadn’t managed to wash out from endless Hunting missions clung to the shirt, and Roman wouldn’t’ve had it any other way.


	7. Day Seven - A Third Wheel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAA. Cutting it close with this one again, but boy was I busy today. As promised, it's longer than the previous chapter! Also incredibly more awkward. But that's what makes it fun!

_Thursday, February 7th, PGW79, La Belle de l'Ange, Commercial Section of Vale, 15:27 Hours._

 

“I’ll be back soon,” Roman reassured him, placing his folded napkin down to the direct left of his plate. “Nature calls and all that.”

Qrow nodded and slouched back on his chair, letting Roman head off to the restaurant’s bathroom. As soon as he was out of eyesight, Qrow kicked up the legs, leaning against the wall behind him. The lunch rush was nearly over, and only a few couples lingered, just as Roman had predicted. Roman knew the Commercial section better than Qrow did, and loved taking the man out to meals. Qrow hardly had the chance to enjoy the city as often as he had during his Beacon days, after all. Roman’s knowledge of the city, however, came at the cost of his career as a master thief, which was a fact that Qrow had to push to the back of his mind as to not let it ruin their day. He sighed at the thought, and cast his gaze to the left to peer out into the street.

The sun shone on the sidewalk, on the cars and couples, on the foot traffic and vendors, and, unfortunately, on the form of one General James Ironwood, the sight of which promptly gave Qrow a heart attack. His chair fell forward, ducking Qrow out of sight of the window, but the General had already spotted him.

Barely a minute had passed before the door swung open, and the poor hostess had been politely denied as James stalked over to Qrow.

“Where have you been?” he asked, getting straight to the point. “I’ve been trying to contact you all day. I’m _just_ getting back from an exhibition -”

“Here,” Qrow interrupted, glaring at James, who had taken a seat during his spiel. “I’ve been here, having lunch, for the past half hour.” He lowered his voice and leaned across the table, staring James right in the eye. “I know Oz doesn’t need me until tonight, and I’m not gonna turn my Scroll on just so I can be at _your_ beck and call.”

“Oh, so for once you learn manners?” James asked, sitting straight up and raising an eyebrow. Qrow glared back in response, setting his jaw.

“I can be polite to people I actually respect,” Qrow hissed, temper flaring. “And right now, _you’re_ on my shit list, _Jimmy_. Get lost.”

The General’s eyes narrowed, and he refused to budge. “Not until you actually _listen_ to me for once, Qrow. I’ll leave you to your -” Ironwood flicked his eyes down at the table, and then back up to Qrow, crossing his arms. “ _meal_ when I’m done. Whoever you’re with can wait.”

Qrow’s expression turned dark. “I’m not kicking R-” Qrow floundered for a second before recovering, “ _t_ _hem_ to the curb just because you can’t wait for a mission debriefing. I’ll talk to you, Glyn, and Oz later tonight.”

James’ expression turned suspicious in its own right. “What are you hiding?”

Qrow bit the inside of his cheek, looking over to the floor. “Look, I don’t know how to say this, so I’ll just, well, _say it_.” Qrow met Ironwood eyes, barely keeping his glare in check. “I’m on a date.”

Ironwood’s eyes widened in shock. “You have friends?”

“Why, yes, he does!” Roman said, an eerily cheery cadence to his voice. He clapped Ironwood on the shoulders, causing both James and Qrow to jump in their seats. “What a pleasant surprise to see you here, General, but I must say, you _are_ in my seat. Care to stand?”

It wasn’t a question.

Ironwood rose to his feet, bewilderment written all over his face. Before he could say a word, Roman had slipped into his chair, balancing his chin on his palm. He shot Qrow a darling smile, which the Huntsman didn’t return.

“Are you crazy?” Qrow and Ironwood both asked at the same time, for entirely different reasons.

A slight blush tinged Qrow’s cheeks, but Roman waved Ironwood off with a magnanimous hand. “I have my moments, General, but I do think _you’re_ the crazy one for barging in on our meal.” Roman shot James an innocent smile, to wit the man blinked in shock.

“I should arrest you.”

“Qrow’s said much the same. Luckily, I happen to have a _lovely_ personality.”

Qrow groaned and put his head in his hands, a slight whimper escaping him. Qrow felt Roman touch his arm, but he didn’t bother to look up.

“Seriously, General, what could possibly be so important that you had to interrupt our date?” Roman asked, his tone so offended it was as if James had insulted his mother. Blindsided, Ironwood shook his head, thrown completely off his game.

“Nothing I’m going to discuss with the likes of you,” Ironwood snapped, once he had recovered from the _personality_ that was Roman Torchwick. By that time, Qrow had pulled out his Scroll, ignored his alerts from James, and sent a quick texts to Ozpin and Glynda. The point of the messages was clear-cut and simple: keep the cops from coming down on the restaurant due to James overreacting. Neither needed to know more.

Well, Qrow was pretty sure Ozpin had already figured out that something had changed in his life, but the man was too polite to ever ask outright, unless something drastic went down.

Qrow hoped this _chance encounter_ wouldn’t be it. By no means did he want to have _that_ conversation. Once the little ‘delivered’ notification popped up, Qrow raised his head to see James’ hand twitch dangerously toward where he kept his gun.

“Jimmy,” Qrow cut in, before either man could shoot the other. There really was no getting out of the meeting tonight. “We can talk about this later.” Qrow met Ironwood’s eyes, meaning shining from within. “Deal with it then, and quit spreading negativity.”

The General balked, but settled down with a frown. “I expect a full report,” he said, trying to regain some symbolism of sensibility and class. He took a few steps around Roman, gazing at the criminal with hate in his eyes. “And this one to be behind bars.”

Roman gave Ironwood a small wave of goodbye, only serving to anger the man more with his angelic, innocuous smile. “Have a _lovely_ day, General,” Roman called after him, before turning back to Qrow. His expression fell into seriousness, leaning forward on the table. “Should we -”

“We’re safe to finish the meal,” Qrow muttered, leaning back and running a hand over his face. “I’m so sorry about him. He’s usually this much of an ass, but I didn’t expect. . .” Qrow lowered his hand and gazed around the room, a guilt-ridden blush covering his cheeks. Most of the patrons had gone back to their meals, but not without a few rude and scathing glances sent their way. “This.”

“It’s fine,” Roman reassured him, a soft smile slipping onto his face. It soon turned wicked. “It was awful fun messing with him.”

Qrow snorted slightly, picking his fork back up and listlessly stabbing at his food. “Won’t disagree there.”

Roman frowned as Qrow’s mood plummeted. He reached out and took his lover’s hand, stroking his thumb over the back of Qrow’s palm. “Hey, chickadee,” Roman said, and Qrow flicked his eyes up. The smirk blossoming on Roman’s face sent a chill down Qrow’s spine. “He said ‘full report’, didn’t he?”

Qrow blinked and nodded, propping his head up on his palm as Roman leaned closer across the table. Roman’s lips grazed across his before he pulled back, and Qrow grinned as he began to catch on to what Roman was selling him. It was a devilish idea, as was standard.

“Why don’t we give him something to remember?~”


	8. Day Eight - On a Rainy Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be prepped for some sadness in this chapter. TW: talk of death and death mentioned. Also, with the way I wrote this, the actions are all in present tense, but the introspection is all in past tense. Hopefully it's not too confusing. And of course I had like three ideas for this one, but went all sad with it. . .

There’s not much to do on a rainy day. There’s never been much to do.

Visit a grave, say your goodbyes, turn away from the loss because what did it ever mean anyway? What did anything mean? Lost love that was doomed from the start, doomed in kisses and smoke and drink and too much lust to ever develop safely - doomed from two worlds that had never been meant to collide in the first place.

He doesn’t blame Ruby, of course. Like always, he blames himself.

What else could he have done? Been better. Spent less on drink. Given him more time, instead of going to his own shitty apartment and drinking himself stupid after missions, only to turn up slurred and needy, forcing Roman to bring him up from that low and then tear him down again in every lovely way possible.

He doesn’t blame Ruby. He blames himself for not sticking around after Amber fell, for not sensing Cinder’s Aura and killing her then and there. He blames himself for the Wyvern, for the Grimm that had taken over Roman’s penthouse and trashed all his books, his trinkets, his every memory. He blames himself for not making Roman trust him, for not convincing Roman enough that he wouldn’t turn around and turn the man in once they were done. He blames himself for joking about the airship, for not picking up on the hints about security, how their last words to each other were ‘stay safe’.

_What a way to break up. . ._

Qrow falls to his knees in the mud, away from every other person and so far, the Grimm. Summer’s grave lies before him, gray and bleak, and Qrow regrets that for every person he lost, there had never been a body. Rain falls from the sky, and Qrow doesn’t even care that he’s soaked. He cares that it would’ve been Roman who took his clothes off, scolding him for ruining the fabric. Scolding him for getting his carpet full of rain water. Scolding him for turning up unwanted on the balcony over and over and over again, until that scowl turned into the fondest of smiles whenever he showed up like the bad omen he was.

_Piss drunk and screaming into the night. . ._

Qrow closes his eyes, tears mixing with the rain. It hurts only a little bit less than Summer, but that doesn’t mean he stops crying. It’s not like he can make a grave for Roman anyway, so the best he can do is turn up at Summer’s and pretend she’s still there to make him feel less like shit.

_Why did he always have to fall for the people who were so damned understanding?_

He’s left his flask back with Tai, and the pain of his head clearing, the shaking, the blood churning in his veins, isn’t enough of a distraction. Blacking out with the cream liqueur and the memories Roman gave him isn’t enough of a distraction. _Getting struck by lightning_ wouldn’t be enough of a distraction.

Qrow throws his head back and wonders just how cruel Ozpin’s Brother Gods are, to take away something so precious. Maybe it’s because Roman was inherently evil - but then again, so was Qrow. Or maybe those two were just right bastards.

Qrow wants to say it’s the latter, but he only blames himself. What else can he do?

There’s not much to do on a rainy day, after all. The most he and Roman ever did was curl up on his extremely expensive couch, trading drinks and kisses until they were too high on each other to do much else. The least he and Roman ever did was pass each other in the street, with small glances and smaller smiles, Qrow with a hand on his sword and Roman with his hand on a girl not much younger than himself.

Qrow had never met her, and he wonders if she mourns.

Apparently Ruby had fought her, thrown her into the void, and that had set off Roman. She admitted to never looking back as the airship crashed, never looking back as she went on to find Weiss. Qrow doesn’t blame her, of course. Ruby hadn’t known. But Qrow does - he knows how Roman could love, could care, could break through defenses with one quick quip and leave anyone and everyone around him charmed. Qrow supposes the girl must mourn, too, if she was even still alive.

It had rained after Beacon. It was raining now, too.

Qrow looks to the sky, blinking away the pain that eats him from the inside out, consuming him over and over and over again, just like with Summer. He doesn’t remember what her Aura feels like, nor Roman’s. He can’t. He won’t. He refuses to remember. Each drop pelts him though, each drop a stinging reminder of what he lost - how Qrow will always, always lose.

Qrow knows he shouldn’t try. ‘ _One should never do anything on a rainy day_ ,’ Roman had said, shooting a smile over his shoulder as he grabbed himself and Qrow a few glasses. ‘ _You’d be wasting the opportunity_.’

Qrow knows he never had one to begin with. There was nothing to do on a rainy day, and there had never been anything anyone could do for Qrow Branwen.


	9. Day Nine - Hanging Out With Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And today, we get our first glimpse at skirt!Qrow! Apologies if anything seems OOC; I've never written for Taiyang before, and most people don't seem to understand my 'Qrow's a bottom' gospel. I think this one is the longest yet, and I'm glad; we need some levity after chapter eight! Also, this is before v1, just as an FYI.

The Xiao Long-Rose household loomed before the pair, glowing softly as the sun set behind it. Roman sighed as he followed Qrow up the pathway, gaze impassive as the Hunter rapped his knuckles against the wood. Qrow stepped back, rocking on the balls of his feet as he shot Roman a small, tight smile.

Roman’s face, conversely, remained impassive, even as the door swung open. Taiyang ushered them both in with a smile, and Roman responded with a polite nod, but there was no mistaking the flash of suspicion in his blue eyes. Out of the corner of Roman’s eye, he noticed the pair exchange a hug, and he let a smile slip loose. At least their evening wouldn’t be awkward.

“So,” Qrow began, separating from Taiyang and heading off to the living room. He plopped down on the couch, motioning Roman over to him. Roman gracefully took a seat after leaving Melodic Cudgel next to where Qrow had dropped Harbinger. “Where’s Yang and Ruby?”

“Off at a friend’s house,” Taiyang answered, dragging in a chair from what was evidently the kitchen. “Birthday party/sleepover mix. The girls took Zwei with them, too.” Taiyang took a seat to the left of Roman and Qrow, and Roman decided not to focus on the fact that he was sat between two deadly Huntsmen.

“Sounds perfect,” Qrow said, cracking a smile. He knocked Roman on the arm lightly as he leaned forward to grab the remote from the coffee table. “Lighten up, Rome.” Qrow got comfortable on the couch, flicking through the channels. “He’s not gonna hurt you.”

“We simply haven’t been introduced,” Roman said, shrugging off any tension in his shoulders. He held his hand out to Taiyang, who took it and shook it with intimidating strength. “Roman Torchwick,” he said with one of his classic smiles.

Taiyang returned his smile with equal warmth, dropping his hand. “Taiyang Xiao Long. I gotta say, you have quite the reputation. It’s hard _not_ to have heard of you.”

Qrow rolled his eyes to the sky. “I didn’t bring you here so you could scare him, Tai.”

Roman raised an eyebrow, unable to keep from responding in kind. “Most people have.” He cocked his head, a smirk on his lips. “And _I’ve_ heard of _you_.”

Taiyang shot Qrow a playful glare. “All good things, I hope?”

“Well, I’m not gonna call you a bastard behind your back,” Qrow said, perking up and grinning back at Taiyang. “I’d say it your face.”

Roman repressed a laugh, hiding it behind his hand. Taiyang, on the other hand, didn’t hesitate, snorting and shaking his head. “Oh, _please_. Which of us didn’t have parents again?”

As Qrow sat fully up and shot back at Taiyang with equal mirth, Roman blinked in surprise. It wasn’t often he learned things about Qrow, let alone something so _personal_ about his past. He settled back on the couch, giving Qrow and Taiyang more room to banter between each other. Roman smiled as the pair exchanged barbs, cutting in every once and a while to help Taiyang tease Qrow.

Eventually, Qrow groaned and threw his head back, slouching against the cushions in mock defeat. He grabbed Roman’s hand, staring at the him with betrayal in his eyes. “You’re _supposed_ to be on my side,” Qrow accused, glaring. He raised their conjoined hands and shook them, staring Roman in the eye. “This is supposed to mean something, you know!”

“And give up on _this_?” Roman asked as Taiyang guffawed. Roman shook his head and dropped Qrow’s hand, a chuckle leaving him. “I don’t think so.”

“You’re both evil, y’know that?” Qrow asked, fake hurt entering his voice. He shook his head and stood, heading to the kitchen and waving them off. “I’m getting us drinks. Maybe you two will be a bit _nicer_!” he called over his shoulder, but Roman heard the smile in his voice.

He ducked his head with a laugh, allowing the mood to mellow as Qrow messed about in the kitchen. Roman relaxed back into Taiyang’s couch, and he shot the man a smile. However, Taiyang didn’t return it, choosing to look over at where they could see Qrow’s figure, before switching his gaze back to Roman. Roman kept his expression unfazed, raising an eyebrow.

Taiyang sighed and crossed his arms, raising his own eyebrows in return. “Lemme ask you a question.”

“Go on.”

“You really don’t know much about him, do you?"

Roman blinked, a small frown forming. “I don’t see why I _should_.”

Taiyang finally returned the smile, uncrossing his arms and leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “It’ll help,” he promised, cutting his eyes over where Melodic Cudgel lay. Taiyang looked at Roman, and the smile on his face gave Roman nothing but a strong sense of suspicion. “How long have you and Qrow been together?”

Roman, distinctly unsettled, responded, “Soon to be half a year. Why?”

Taiyang nodded and settled back on his chair, regarding Roman with a worldly eye. “I think it’s time you heard The Story, then.”

“What story?” Qrow asked re-entering the room, while Roman remained flabbergasted.

Taiyang shot Qrow a completely innocent smile that neither man trusted for more than a second. Qrow sat the drinks tray down, eyes narrowing with suspicion, and with what Roman thought looked oddly like _hate_. Taiyang reached forward and snagged a cup, taking a sip before replying. “You know the one.”

Qrow went still, his hand freezing as he reached for his own drink. Roman watched as red slowly crept up and into Qrow’s cheeks. Slowly, Roman started to smile. Whatever Taiyang was on about, it was definitely going to be _fun_.

“What’s he talking about, chickadee?” Roman asked casually, grabbing his own liquor and settling back down on the couch.

Qrow turned even redder at the nickname, shaking his head and trying to bury himself back-first into the couch. He clutched his drink in his hand, refusing to meet Roman’s eye. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Roman turned to Tai, doing his best to keep his poker face up and not let the wide smile he was fighting back break through. Fake concern wrought its way over his face. “Qrow’s not usually this shy,” he confessed, perfectly playing the part of worried boyfriend. “Did something happen?”

“Oh, something _definitely_ happened.~”

“I’m going to kill you,” Qrow said, a petulant note entering his voice. His brows knit together as he scowled, taking a fortifying sip of his whiskey.

“And what, leave Ruby and Yang bereft?”

“They don’t need you.”

“Qrow!” Roman scolded, letting his scandalized tone speak for itself. Roman knew it was just banter, of course -Tai was still smiling, after all- but the path they were on seemed just too delicious to deny.

“Pretty rude of you,” Taiyang affirmed, taking another drink. “Should probably tell that story as an apology.”

“You can’t make me,” Qrow spat, sitting up straighter. The red had vanished a tad from his cheeks, but defiant embarrassment still colored his tone.

“ _I_ can.”

Qrow chirped in surprise, turning to Roman with a shocked whine. “Roman!”

“Am I incorrect?” the man in question asked, raising a brow as he took another sip from his drink, proper as could be.

Qrow grimaced, setting his jaw and looking toward the floor. “Well, no,” he admitted, voice going back to its usual gruffness as he fell back on the couch. He took another drink from his glass. “I just don’t like talking about it. It’s embarrassing.”

“I can see that.”

By this point, Taiyang had gotten comfortable in his chair, drink in hand and smile on face. It was damn near impossible for Qrow to find a man he was willing to date, what with Raven having run interference at school, his hang-ups about his Semblance, and his workload for Ozpin. For Roman to be six months in and able to redden him with just a name was a miracle at the _least_. And with a weapon like _that_. . . Well, Taiyang wasn’t the type of man who would miss out and let this opportunity slide without helping. “Well?” Taiyang prompted, as Qrow ducked his head to avoid Roman’s gaze. “I’ll tell if you don’t.~”

Qrow sighed and drank again, shifting a bit in his spot. He gestured toward Taiyang with a flippant hand, defeated. “This bastard tricked me into wearing a skirt for like, the entire first week at Beacon. Initiation, landing strategy, all of it.”

Taiyang turned his gaze to Roman, who had set his drink down back on the tray. His eye had widened, and his mouth had fallen into a shocked little ‘o’. Unbidden, he frowned. If this went south, Taiyang wouldn’t hesitate to toss Roman right into the sea. However, Roman had instead tilted Qrow back on the couch by his shoulder, holding him to the plush cushions. Roman, now lost in his own world, drank in every detail of Qrow’s legs, before leaning back with a predatory smirk. Qrow’s own eyes went wide, and he wet his lips, breathing now labored.

Roman turned back to Taiyang with such a cheery expression on his face that he suddenly wondered if the man had been possessed. “You made the right decision. He’d look fantastic!”

“What!” Qrow chirped, voice cracking slightly. Conversely, Taiyang burst out laughing.

“I think I actually might have it lying around somewhere, packed up with all our old Beacon stuff,” Taiyang teased, to Roman’s utter delight. Qrow meanwhile, had sat up and sat his drink down, glaring daggers at Taiyang and trying to interrupt before their conversation could humiliate him even further.

“No need,” Roman said gaily, picking up his drink and crossing his legs. One sip and a twinkle later, Roman was looking at Qrow like he couldn’t wait to undress him. “I know a good seamstress. Beacon’s skirt color is red, right? Matches his eyes.”

“That it is,” Taiyang affirmed, much to Qrow’s horror.

“Absolutely not,” Qrow interjected, finally putting his two cents in. “I’m not wearing it again. You had your fun twenty years ago.”

“Oh, but chickadee, you’d look so _good_ ,” Roman said, and his tone made Qrow falter. “You definitely have the thighs for it.”

“The girls back at Beacon said the same,” Taiyang pointed out.

Qrow huffed and downed the rest of his whiskey, refusing to engage with their nonsense.

Roman shrugged and shot Tai a smile, letting Qrow ignore them both. Red still colored his face, but Roman had an amazing eye for detail. Taiyang chuckled and placed his own empty glass down next to Qrow’s, and Roman's soon followed. Taiyang grabbed the tray and stood, making his way back to the kitchen. Qrow had settled himself into the couch cushions, arms crossed and his lips screwed up in consternation.

“Thank you,” Roman said after a small silence had passed between them. Qrow started and looked up, mouth falling open. Roman reached over and grabbed his hand, raising it up and pressing his lips to Qrow’s knuckles. “You really didn’t have to share. Teasing is only teasing.”

Qrow looked off to the side before closing the distance between their bodies. “Yeah, well. . .” he stopped himself, taking a deep breath. “I would’ve never admitted it on my own. So I’m glad you like it.” Roman opened his mouth, but Qrow cut him off by brushing their lips together. “If you really want, I’ll wear it,” he whispered, glancing over his shoulder to spy Taiyang running water into the glasses. Qrow looked back to Roman, going red once more. Thankfully, this time it was due to wicked delight.

Roman sighed and leaned his forehead against Qrow’s, a slight laugh leaving him. One hand travelled up the back of Qrow’s shirt, causing a shiver. “Oh, chickadee, _do I_.~”


	10. Day Ten - First Pet/Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reminder that Roman's a villain, that Qrow's Semblance loves catching people in bad moods, and to always ask your partner before doing things. In short: their first fight.

Roman locked the door to his penthouse, sighing as he dropped his keys down on the fireplace mantle. Cinder had been a right pain in the ass, as usual, and now that he had arrived home, Roman just wanted to _relax_.

As usual, the Fates were against him. As Roman set Melodic Cudgel down and began undoing his jacket, he heard Qrow shout out. Roman turned to his left, surprise being the first emotion to cross his mind. By no means had he expected Qrow to arrive before him. The next emotion was anger.

With a bang and a bark, Roman crashed back-first into his door, sliding down onto the ground. He blinked, shifting past the sudden wave of pain as he got a good look at the monster standing on his chest.

“Zwei!” Qrow called out, trying to contain his laughter and burgeoning horror. “No! Sit!”

The corgi immediately plopped down on Roman’s lap, tongue lolling out as he gazed up at Roman. Before he could shove the offending animal off of his person, Qrow had arrived and scooped the little mongrel up in his arms.

“No,” Qrow scolded, but Zwei just rolled onto his back in his hold, woofing. “You can’t just jump on people.” Qrow held out his hand to Roman, who took it and was thusly pulled into a standing position. “I’m so sorry about him,” Qrow apologized, and Roman busied himself with brushing his jacket off. “Zwei just gets excited around new people.”

“Qrow,” Roman began, very slowly, as if he was talking to an extremely unintelligent child. “Why is there a dog in my apartment?”

Qrow blinked and stood up a bit, cradling Zwei. “Mine doesn’t allow pets and Tai is chaperoning Ruby and Yang’s Signal trip. I won’t be on call for a week, so I thought I’d bring him here.”

Roman took a deep breath and finished undoing his overcoat, hanging it up next to Qrow’s cape in the small closet across from the fireplace. He took off his hat and gloves next, counting down from ten to calm himself. Roman slipped a cigar from his jacket’s pocket and put it in his pants’, knowing he’d need a smoke after this.

He turned back to Qrow with a tight-lipped smile. Qrow, wisely, went on guard.

“And you didn’t think to ask me? Seeing as it’s _my fucking apartment_?”

Qrow’s face fell, and he let Zwei hop on to the ground. He started sniffing around Roman’s legs, and it took him everything he had not to punt the dog right into Qrow. The man in question had shoved his hands into his pockets, guilt written all over his face. “Just thought you’d like to meet him. I’d take him back to Tai’s, but then I wouldn’t be able to spend the week with you, and you traveling to back and forth to Patch isn’t viable -”

Roman cut right through the bullshit. “So what you’re saying is you’re keeping a dog in my apartment, without asking me, for a week.” Roman stood tall, and while he was shorter than Qrow, the elder man still grimaced.

“Not a week. Just like, a day or two.” Qrow’s face fell, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry. I shoulda asked.”

“No fucking shit!” Roman exploded, before taking another deep breath and running a hand over his face. Zwei barked beneath him, and Roman shot the dog a glare. It grinned back, causing Roman to severely reevaluate his stance on if he allowed blood to get on his carpet.

“I’m going for a smoke,” he announced, brushing past Qrow and through his living room. He slid open the balcony door, resisting the urge to slam it closed. It _was_ made of glass, after all. “If that **thing** pisses on _anything,_  you’re paying for it!” Roman called over his shoulder, barely keeping a shudder at bay as his mind wandered to whatever _else_ that animal could do.

Qrow frowned and bent down next to Zwei, scratching him behind the ears. “Sorry, buddy,” he apologized, glancing through the glass at Roman bent over the railing, smoke curling around his head. “I thought he’d like you.” Qrow gave Zwei a bitter smile, but the corgi just woofed and licked Qrow’s face. He huffed out half a laugh, rubbing Zwei’s back. “Guess we’ll just have to convince him, huh?”

Zwei barked in agreement, wagging his stubby little tail.


	11. Day Eleven - Swimming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not so much "swimming" as "chilling in water", but I think it's close enough. Pre-V1.

A lonesome night in Vale was the most boring thing in all of Remnant. Roman Torchwick knew this for a fact, sighing in despondency as he leant over his wrought iron railing, a cigar held loosely in his fingers. He looked up into the night sky, clear and full of burgeoning stars. Nothing to see there that he hadn’t before - even the flock of birds followed their usual pattern.

Well, one wasn’t. It had separated from the flock and begun wheeling in circles through the sky. A few joined it, before going back to their mates and flying back to Forever Fall for the night. The singular bird continued swooping in the evening sky, and Roman wrote it off as the bird simply wanting a bit more food before settling down for the night.

Just like the bird, Roman felt averse to sleeping so early. Barely past seven and the sun just setting, deep oranges and pinks streaked the sky and painted the city in golden hues. He turned back to his penthouse, ducking his head with a sigh. Not much to do on the inside since Qrow had gone off on a mission a few days ago - he didn’t even have a write up for Cinder. His last heist report had been given in person, after all. Roman tilted his head up and swept his eyes across his balcony. A small umbrella table rested on the concrete, and Roman considered the idea of a few drinks while watching the city, but cast the thought aside as his gaze landed on a tarp.

Ah, right. He hadn’t used that jacuzzi since the beginning of last fall. Spring had just come, and a chill still lingered in the air. Well, a slight dip couldn’t hurt, right? Beginning to smile, Roman pushed himself up from the railing, pinching the cigar off. He approached the jacuzzi and pulled the tarp back, now fully smiling. He _had_ remembered to winterize it, thank the Brothers. After a quick, Aura-filled inspection and reset, Roman opened the valve to let the Dust crystals activate and the water flow. Roman nodded in satisfaction as the tub began to fill, heading into his penthouse to change. He had to have some trunks _somewhere_ , after all.

Eleven minutes and a towel later, Roman entered his balcony once more and promptly shrieked. Qrow sat in his jacuzzi, which bubbled peacefully around his body. His clothes and weapon laid on the umbrella table, though thankfully Roman couldn’t spot his boxers anywhere. He would’ve thrown Qrow off his balcony if he had been naked in there.

“Heya,” Qrow said, far too cheerily for Roman’s liking. He waggled his eyebrows, motioning Roman over. “You gonna come join me?”

“Why are you here?” Roman asked, setting his towel down next to Qrow’s clothes. Qrow shrugged in response, choosing instead to leer as Roman sat on the edge of the hot tub. Roman slid his legs in, a delighted shiver coursing through him at the pleasant warmth.

“Just thought I’d stop by. Mission ended early.”

“That doesn’t give you the right to basically _jumpscare_ me,” Roman said airily, and Qrow’s face changed to one of proper contrition.

“Right. Sorry.”

Roman waved him off and slid into the water fully with a happy sigh. “It’s fine. Just -” Roman shot Qrow a weary smile. “Just call ahead next time.”

Qrow frowned momentarily before paddling over to Roman. He put his left arm around Roman’s waist as he got comfortable, back facing the apartment. In the midst of the bubbles, he leaned his head against Roman’s shoulder, gazing out into the darkening Valian skyline. “Do I even have your Scroll number?” he asked after a moment, tilting his head up to look at Roman.

“You have my burner number,” Roman replied, and Qrow nodded.

“Gotcha.”

The sky darkened around the couple. Eventually, Qrow had turned to Roman and sat in his lap, wrapping his arms around his neck. Roman, in turn, wrapped his arms around Qrow’s waist, tilting his head back and smirking at the older man. “Well, what do we have here?~”

Qrow’s smile begged to be kissed off of him, and Roman wasn’t the type to deny himself a temptation. They separated from the kiss, hands wandering dangerously low in the water and breathing turning heady. “A night to ourselves?” Qrow offered, raising his body out of the jacuzzi.

Roman leaned his head against Qrow’s thigh, eyes fluttering closed. Qrow ran a hand through Roman’s hair, and Roman’s eyes opened as he shot Qrow a smile. “I think I can be convinced to let you in my bed tonight.”

Qrow pulled back, hopping out of the jacuzzi. His Aura shimmered, drying his skin as he grabbed his clothes. “Meet you inside?” he called over his shoulder, peering back to see Roman push himself out of the water. Qrow’s mouth went dry, and he turned his head back, trying to keep the heat off his cheeks.

“No problem,” Roman replied, and a small shiver ran through Qrow at his tone. “I’ll be in soon. I need to clean up, and _you_ still need to make up for scaring me.~”


	12. Day Twelve - Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, a long, sweet chapter! This takes place in what I like to call the "Cyber Security" AU, where, out of respect for Qrow, Roman tips off Ironwood to really check for the Black Queen Virus. It's found, Cinder and Co. are dealt with, Beacon is saved, and most importantly - Roman is pardoned. This takes place in the winter after what would have been the Fall of Beacon. In this, the pair have been together around two years - one before RWBY's time at Beacon, and one during.

“You know, I never expected you to light that,” Qrow said, snuggling deeper into Roman’s embrace. A fire burned in the hearth across from them, crackling under the mantle. Some cheesy Christmas movie played on the TV, but neither paid it any decent mind. Snow fell on the city outside, blanketing the night in white. Qrow glanced over at the balcony, a small smile forming. He'd never gotten to enjoy snow back in the tribe.

“I had some spare Dust,” Roman said, shrugging and wrapping his arms around Qrow. The crystals in question crackled merrily in the hearth, sparks flying every so often. Qrow flicked his eyes up to Roman, frowning as his words registered.

“You have a lot of that, don’t you?” he asked, unable to keep the suspicion from his voice. Roman gave him a dead-eyed gaze in return, and Qrow pursed his lips.

“Don’t ruin Christmas,” Roman scolded, lightly popping Qrow on the bottom. Qrow looked to the side, fighting back a blush.

“Fiiine,” he replied, sighing and rolling his eyes. He shuffled back into position, getting cozy in Roman’s arms. He blinked, however, as Roman shifted upwards and out of their cuddle. “Babe?” he asked as Roman stretched. Qrow saw Roman’s eyes flick over to the clock and then back to him. Qrow cocked his head in reply.

“Now that it comes up, I _did_ get you something,” Roman admitted, looking off to the side with his own blush. Qrow’s mouth fell open, shock written all over his face.

“Shit,” he muttered. “I didn’t - I figured you’d just steal whatever you wanted -”

“It’s fine,” Roman reassured him, lips quirking up into a smile. “You never seemed the Christmas type, anyways.” Roman gave a small laugh, now fully grinning. “And you’re probably right. I do have a tendency to take what I want.~”

Qrow ducked his head, looking up from under his lashes at Roman. “Am I proof of that?”

Roman closed the distance between them, pressing their lips together. “Of course you are,” he breathed as they separated, the taste of whiskey now lingering on his lips. Roman moved to Qrow’s neck, leaving small bites on his skin. Qrow shivered, moving into a sitting position to grant Roman more access. “I would’ve never given someone as lovely as you up.~”

Qrow whimpered, closing his eyes. Roman, in the early goings of their relationship, had made it his mission to memorize every little thing that made Qrow tick. Now, in times like this, his knowledge had the power to leave Qrow a quivering mess with just a few words. Roman knew how much Qrow loved being praised, how much he loved being wanted, how much he loved being told that he _belonged_.

Roman finished his tender mercies on Qrow’s neck, pulling back and leaving his skin to pinken. Qrow’s eyes fluttered open, and he took a moment to refocus as Roman left his hand lingering on his thigh. “Just give me a moment,” he said, pressing another kiss to Qrow’s lips before standing. “I’ll be back.”

“Right,” Qrow replied, shaking off the last of the seductive haze that had descended over him. Qrow rubbed a hand over his neck, sighing as he heard Roman head up the steps. Qrow’s neck had always been one of his most sensitive spots, and Roman had never hesitated to send his Aura through that pulse point. Qrow looked down at his lap, twisting his lips up into a frown. If only he had something to give to Roman. . .

 

By the time Roman had returned, Qrow had a feather in his fingers and a confession on his lips. Qrow started as Roman dropped a box on the crystal table in front of him, shoving the feather underneath a nearby pillow. Roman waved a magnanimous hand, circling the table and settling down on Qrow’s left. “Go on, open it,” he said, satisfaction oozing from his tone.

Qrow shot Roman a suspicious glance, but moved the lid off after he saw Roman’s impatient pout. He chirped in surprise, dropping the lid and shooting Roman a betrayed look. “You bastard,” he grumbled, a heavy blush painting his cheeks. A new skirt laid amongst the tissue paper, as red as his eyes and as patterned as an Old High Valian kilt.

“Aren’t you going to try it on?” Roman asked, arching a brow. Qrow grumbled, moving to pick up the skirt. He paused as his hand ran over something decidedly _firm_ hidden under the fabric. His brow furrowed, and Qrow pushed the skirt to the side, mouth dropping open.

“Oh, by the Brothers,” Qrow breathed.

“Knew you’d like it,” Roman said, sounding far too pleased with himself. “I had it engraved - custom, of course.”

With reverent fingers, Qrow picked up the flask Roman had hidden under the red tartan, weighing it in his hands. One on side, Qrow’s own emblem was proudly etched into the silver, and on the other laid Roman’s. Qrow swallowed heavily, sending a pulse of Aura through the metal. Sturdy. Neither man would’ve had it any other way.

“I love it,” he said thickly, taking a deep breath. Qrow set the flask down back on the tissue, running his fingers over Roman’s symbol. “Thank you.”

Roman smirked and leaned back on the armrest, eyeing Qrow with a gleam. “Not a problem. It’s my pleasure.” Qrow carefully folded the skirt back in the box, his blush returning. Just like the flask, the fabric was made of quality material - high end Vacuoan cotton, to be precise.

“My gift feels kinda stupid, now,” Qrow muttered, flumping back on the couch. Roman furrowed his brow, sitting up a bit straighter.

“I thought you said you didn’t get me anything?” Roman asked.

“Mm. I didn’t. Not exactly.”

Roman raised his eyebrow, crossing his arms.

Qrow reached back under the pillow, bringing the feather out and twirling it in his hands. He passed it over to Roman, who took it in his delicate fingers.

“A feather.”

“One of mine.”

“One of -” Roman cut himself off, eye going wide in realisation. “Wait, one of _yours_?”

Qrow grimaced, not meeting Roman’s eyes. “Remember how after you tipped us off, we kinda filled you in on everything?”

“Yes?”

“Well, we didn’t exactly explain _everything_.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “What do you take me for, an idiot? Of course that wasn’t the full story.” He affixed Qrow with a _look_ , and Qrow ducked his head. “Just spit it out, chickadee.”

“The Maidens weren’t the only ones to get magic over the course of Remnant’s history,” Qrow admitted, sitting up straight. “Raven and I got some, too.” He heard Roman gasp, but Qrow had already closed his eyes. Magic shimmered throughout his body, and when Qrow opened his eyes, he flexed his wings and cawed at Roman.

Roman had frozen in shock, mouth open. He looked down at the feather in his hands, before snapping his gaze up to Qrow. He reached a hand out, before immediately withdrawing. Qrow chirped and hopped forward onto Roman’s thigh, trying to keep from digging his talons in. Roman gasped, and gently laid a hand on Qrow’s back.

Qrow flapped a bit, settling down. With two fingers, Roman pet along Qrow’s feathers, causing a small ruffle when he reached the wing-joint.

“Oh!” he said as Qrow poofed up, before giving a small, dark chuckle. “So _that’s_ why your back is so sensitive. It’s where your wings are.” Qrow cawed in affirmation before transforming back, now straddling Roman. The man nearly shrieked, but Qrow cut him off with a kiss.

“Yeah,” he admitted, looking off to the side. He soon refocused on Roman, bringing the hand that held the feather up between them. “So - this is one of my feathers. Shouldn’t ever get messed up. I’ve given ‘em to Ruby and Yang and -” Qrow cut himself off, unwilling to bring up the other members of his team. “And they’re still in perfect condition.”

“Did you just pluck it?” Roman’s voice was deathly quiet.

“Yeah. Not much else I coulda done for a last-minute gift.”

“Did it hurt?”

Qrow frowned, shrugging. “A little? Aura’ll take care of it, and it’ll have regrown by the time I need to transform for any length of time.”

Roman ran a hand across Qrow’s back, causing a delighted shiver. He gave Roman a wry smile. “Yeah, that. Wing-joint. You've always known what to do.~”

Roman had closed his eyes, and he laid the feather down on the crystal. “It’s always been you. The flocks in the sky. The caws in the night. How you can dodge point-blank explosions.”

Qrow smirked. “I’m pretty good at what I do.”

Roman opened his eyes, and Qrow’s voice died as he saw the raw emotion shining from within. “Thank you,” Roman whispered, pressing their lips together. “I’ll treasure it.”

Qrow gave an embarrassed laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, you can even put it in your hat. That way you always have a part of me with you.” Qrow’s eyes fell on the box, and a soft smile covered his lips. “Likewise for the flask.”

Roman smiled, wrapping his arms around Qrow’s waist and leaning his head on his chest. “When did you become such a romantic?”

“When I started dating you,” Qrow answered, plopping a kiss on Roman’s head. “Merry Christmas, babe.”

“Merry Christmas, Qrow.”


	13. Day Thirteen - Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy, did I have a lot of trouble with this one. Down to the wire again, but I just could not figure out what to write. Several ideas have been running around my head for this chapter. Hopefully it's decent.

King’s Park was one of the most serene places in all of Vale. The Hunter’s Guild kept it safe from Grimm, the noise in the Industrial District was across the river, and the couples who walked the paths hardly had an argument to spare. The fountains glittered, the statues shone, and the trees stood proud.

Well, one didn't. In a secluded area nearing the edge of Forever Fall, one tree shook violently with the force of a punch, leaves drifting to the ground.

“I don’t understand how she can be such a _bitch_!” Qrow exploded, shoulders hunching. Roman stood off to the side, for once without a cigar. King’s Park had strict no-smoking laws. “Why can’t she just fucking let me be happy?! It’s like Beacon all over again! Who does she think she is?”

“This has happened before?” Roman asked, raising an eyebrow as Qrow paced in angry circles. The source of his ire, his twin sister Raven Branwen, sat atop a hill little ways away from the couple, sipping tea. She looked decidedly less murderous than how people described her, but that didn’t mean she unsettled Roman any less. Something was off about her - it was the same feeling of a storm about to break that he got around Cinder.

“Yep.” Qrow grimaced and shoved his hands in his pockets, leaning back against a tree. “Back in Beacon, she’d keep everyone away from me. Barely had a moment to myself until we started taking missions.”

Roman furrowed his brow, lips pursing. “She sounds protective.”

“She’s a control freak,” Qrow spat. “I hate the way she talks about you. Like you’re not even fucking there.”

“Miss Branwen does actually know a lot about me,” Roman said, and Qrow practically snarled at the formal form of address. “She’s attributed a few heists to my name that the police don’t know about, but _did_ , in fact, happen by my hand.” Roman tilted his head back, and smiled at Raven, who continued to sit with perfect posture. “She must have amazing sources.”

Qrow huffed. “Yeah. Right. Sure thing. Fucking stalking, more like,” he muttered. “‘I’m not sure what you see in him’,” Qrow mocked, glaring at Raven. She ignored him.

“Perhaps I merely haven’t impressed her yet,” Roman said blithely, and Qrow balked.

“Bullshit! You’ve been there for me more times than she ever has!” Qrow cried, waving his hand in Raven’s general direction. Roman raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

“She’s known you far longer than I,” Roman pointed out.

“Doesn’t mean she’s been there.” Qrow took a deep breath and gazed into the forest, pressing his lips together. “I just can’t understand why she’s so against you. You’re a far cry better than any of the one night stands I’ve had over the past twenty years.”

Roman frowned in his own right, staring at Raven. Her hair flowed in the soft breeze, gleaming in the spring sunlight. Every piece of her armor had been polished to a mirror finish, and her cloth expertly pressed. Even her sword belt, which laid a bit away from their picnic blanket with Melodic Cudgel and Harbinger, stood out.

“I think she doesn’t realize I’m Mistralian.”

“What does that have to do wi-”

“You’re a Tribal, right?”

Qrow blinked, taken aback. “Uh, yeah. Raven and I are the successors.” Qrow bit his inner cheek and looked down at the ground. “She’s pretty pissed at me for leaving.”

“Well there you go. I’m not something that’s going to be tying you to Vale. She should be happy about that,” Roman pointed out. He turned to Qrow. “Would I have done well by your Tribe’s standards?”

“Yeah,” Qrow admitted, sighing. “Even by Raven’s revamped rules. Which are extremely unfair ones,” he muttered at the end, ever petulant.

“Interesting. I think she likes me, then.”

Qrow nearly laughed. “Oh, _please_. What makes you say that?”

“I’m not dead.”

Qrow went still, and Roman was pleased to note that even Raven’s hands had frozen around her teacup. Roman smiled at Qrow, whose mouth had fallen open. “I’m quite sure that if your dear sister did not approve of us, I wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

“Is that supposed to be comforting?!”

Raven’s smirk certainly wasn’t.


	14. Day Fourteen - Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another close call. Sorry y'all, but today's been busy. However, I'm much more confident in this one compared to the last, even though the theme sadly doesn't bode well for V-Day. Blame whoever set up the prompt list, not me! :p

Roman Torchwick had never been the type of man who had the inclination to share things. Sure, he stole things for Neo and split the spoils. Sure, he had a smoke with the White Fang grunts when there was nothing else to do. And sure, he currently sat next to his boyfriend, sharing drinks, but that did not mean he had gone for a night on the town to share _Qrow himself._

Pressing the glass to his lips, Roman shot a glare over the rim at the waitress Qrow had been flirting with for what felt like ten minutes. The pair had been sat at the bar, inconspicuously trading glances and kisses as the night drew on. No one would notice or remember them due to the haze of smoke and drink, but both men still thought it prudent to hide their affection.

‘Or maybe,’ Roman thought bitterly, swallowing more alcohol, ‘just hide our own.’

Qrow, proving Roman’s point, had his elbows on the bar and his chin in his hands, drink pressed in the space betwixt his arms and body. When he wasn’t staring in the waitress’ eyes, his own wandered down, down, down, checking every little box. Breasts. Hips. Legs. He even winked at the giggling wench, like they were in some cheap porno.

It nearly drove Roman mad.

He set his glass down on the countertop, keeping it from thunking with a cleverly placed finger. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes so he didn’t have to look at Qrow mooning. Unfortunately, that came at the cost of _hearing_ him compliment the woman on her too-short skirt and tight shirt. What he wouldn’t give to have Qrow do the same. . .

Either or, really. Complimenting him so nice or dressed up so pretty, Roman would take both in a heartbeat. Maybe even combine ‘em. Roman groaned at the thought, dropping his head in the palm of his hand. He recognized jealousy in an instant; the emotion had plagued him since he had been a tot, wandering broke and homeless through the streets of Mistral.

“Rome?” He looked up, eyes meeting with Qrow’s too-bright ones. Drink made him melancholy on some days, but on nights like these, Qrow got dangerously close to what normal people would call happy. His smile spoke his drunkenness for him, and Roman pretended not to be hurt by his question. “You good?”

“Of course,” Roman replied, ever demure as he raised his glass to his lips.

Qrow blinked, sitting up a bit straighter, and Roman saw his eyes sharpen. He swallowed, cursing internally for forgetting - as much of a drunk as he was, Qrow Branwen was still a world-class Hunter. Roman looked to the side as Qrow affixed him with his gaze, unwilling to be the first to speak.

Qrow hardly ever had qualms like that, and most certainly didn’t hold any tonight. “No you’re not. What’s up?” While his speech remained slurred, the underlying care came through loud and clear. Roman knocked back the rest of his drink, placing the empty glass down on the counter and tracing the rim with a finger.

“Tonight was supposed to be for us,” he said, voice far lighter than it had any business being. Qrow furrowed his brow, only for his eyes to widen as the waitress came back to get Roman a new glass of liquor. She winked at him, and Qrow, instinctively, gave a wolfish grin in return.

“Yeah. That,” Roman said, as she turned away, hailed by another customer.

Qrow, who had never possessed any tact to begin with, got straight to the point. “You don’t like me flirting.”

“Obviously.” He didn’t even try to hide the edge in his voice.

“I’m sorry.” Roman glanced over, and Qrow held his drink in his hand, cradling it against his chest. He stared into the amber liquid as his lips turned downward in guilt. Roman, in turn, picked up his own and took a sip. “I’m still not used to actually being with someone. I - I’ve never really had the chance to practice being _exclusive_.”

Roman drank again. “How quaint.” Anger bubbled under the surface, but he still kept enough wits about him to not pitch a fit in so public a place. He didn’t react as Qrow touched his sleeve, nor when Qrow gave it an impatient tug.

“Babe, listen to me.” He heard Qrow speak, but the words were lost in his mounting jealousy. Every single time they went out, he’d always find the girl with the golden ratio and lose himself, and Roman would have to drag him home before he’d do anything stupid.

“Pumpkin.”

Roman started, looking up to see Qrow’s uncharacteristically serious face. “It really bothers you that much?” Before Roman could open his mouth, Qrow shook his head. “Of course it does. Stupid of me to ask.” He took Roman’s hands, leaving their drinks by the wayside. “I. . .” Qrow took a breath. “I can’t promise to get it right every time, but I’ll try to stop, okay?”

Roman almost wanted to believe him. He reached out and held Qrow’s face, and those red eyes stared back, so innocent in their attempt at pacification. “I just want you to be mine.”

Qrow smirked back, leaning into the touch. “Whaddaya say we finish up here and head back to your place, then?” Qrow grabbed Roman’s arm, but it wasn’t rough. Nay, he clung, holding it close and preying on Roman’s adoration of Qrow’s hidden submissive side. “Make me prove I’m yours and yours alone.”

Well, it wasn’t _entirely_ hidden, and Roman wouldn’t’ve had it any other way.


	15. Day Fifteen - Injury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place in the days directly after the Fall of Beacon, but in a slightly worse version of the Cyber Security AU, where the Fall actually happened, but with less casualties.

“I didn’t expect you to be out here,” Ironwood said, exiting the flap of one of the medical tents. Qrow looked up from where he was sat at one of the low tables, surrounded by staff on break and too many empty bottles. “I would’ve assumed you’d be in there with him.”

“I shouldn’t even be here,” Qrow muttered, dropping his head. He traced a finger around the rim of the cup, a habit he’d picked up from Roman. He refused to acknowledge James as he sat down across from him. Qrow pursed his lips and closed his eyes, taking another drink to keep his throat from getting dry.

James frowned and nodded. “Right. Your Semblance.”

Qrow grunted and thumped his cup down, glaring at the ground. The cries of the wounded reached his ears, and he pretended not to know why they set up the tents in the way they did. Criminals in the outer rings. Hunters in the middle. Civilians in the center. Faunus on the outside. Easy to heal in the middle. High-ranked officials in the center.

James interrupted him before Qrow could grow any more bitter. “He keeps asking for you, you know. Wouldn’t even hear me out on a plea deal until he knew you were safe.”

“How’s he getting off?” Qrow asked, pointedly ignoring the rest of James’ statement.

“We’ve agreed to let him off the hook for any domestic terrorism charges due to him tipping us off,” James explained. “It’s not like we could _tell people_ abouthis involvement with the Fall or the masterminds behind the Breach, either way.” James sighed at their lack of information and stared at Qrow, who didn’t bother to meet his eyes. “The armed robbery charges can be dealt with via community service in repairing Vale under supervision of a certain Hunter.”

Qrow huffed out a bitter chuckle, knocking back more of the drink rather than responding. “You should go see him,” James said, and his shoulders drooped as Qrow shot him a vicious glare. “While I don’t _approve_ of your relationship, you’re only upsetting him by keeping away, and I don’t want to deal with his whining any more than I already have to. Not to mention that we’ll be moving him soon.”

“Where?"

“Safe house outside of the Residential District. You know the one.”

Qrow nodded, taking a breath. James shot him a concerned gaze, but Qrow didn’t give him more than a flinch as his hand was laid on Qrow’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault.” James said, removing his hand as Qrow swatted his arm away. Qrow’s eyes widened as something slipped into his hand. “And I can’t blame you for what you do once I’m gone. My scientists have already started on a prototype for your niece, but I need to escort my men and my people back to Atlas.” James stood fully, hands clasped behind his back as he walked toward the center of the compound. “I’ll be gone within a week.”

Qrow ducked his head, a small smirk tugging at his lips and a drive in his hands.

 

“Well, don’t you look lovely,” Roman commented, cocking his head. He laid in bed, the sheets crisp and pressed, standing out against the hospital gown he somehow managed to make look glamorous. It was probably his hair, swept elegantly to the side as usual, or the eyeliner he’d managed to trick one of the younger nurses into applying. It certainly wasn’t the bandages and burns that covered his body, the blues and blacks streaking his form, the heavy collar around his neck that blinked away. Roman’s eye shone bright, however, sweeping up and down Qrow’s body. “Like you haven’t drunk yourself to a stupor for the past five days.” An edge entered his voice, and Qrow shot him a guilty smile.

“Got here eventually, didn’t I?” Qrow asked, his hands hidden in his pockets since he couldn’t figure out what to do with them. Roman smiled, eyes fluttering closed as he leaned back on the pillows. The heart monitor kept beeping, and Qrow relaxed. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better,” Roman answered, taking Qrow by surprise. “Certainly better than when they found me.” A hand came up and gestured to the collar around his neck, not willing to risk touching it. “But I think there’s definitely room to improve.” He cracked an eye open and shot Qrow a smile, and Qrow returned it without much fervor. “I’d feel even more fantastic if they let me use my Aura,” Roman said flippantly, and kept his face neutral as Qrow flinched. “I’m healing, but it’s going to take _forever_.” Roman fell back onto the pillows, ever a drama king, and he resisted a smirk as he saw Qrow begin to smile.

“More of a reason to let me take care of you for once,” Qrow said, finally moving from the wall to Roman’s bedside. He ran a hand down Roman’s bandaged chest, a bittersweet smile crossing his face. “Can’t promise I’ll be good at it.”

“Get this off of me, and you won’t have to worry,” Roman teased with a wink. “It’d look better on you, anyway.” A slight blush dusted Qrow’s cheeks, but he didn’t react further. Aura collars were serious things, invented and used by Atlas only on the highest level prisoners. Since no one, not even Roman, knew his Semblance, the military didn’t want to risk it developing as he healed. He’d been allowed to use his Aura to keep from dying when he was in Atlesian care, but the collar had been applied once the doctors had put him through triage. It kept track of the prisoner’s Aura level, and as soon as it rose past a certain percentage, the collar shocked the prisoner to break it. Thusly, Aura would tank the blow so the body wouldn’t be damaged, keeping the prisoner on the threads of life. Insidious things, really, keeping the prisoners tracked and weak.

“I’m not sure I could get it off,” Qrow admitted, running a hand over the Electric Dust crystals embedded into the collar. The only reason it didn’t shock Roman as a warning was due to Aura being unique to each wielder. “If something went wrong, it could blow your head off.”

Roman sighed and cast his gaze off to the side, a delicate pout on his lips.

Qrow’s hand tightened on his shoulder, however, and Roman looked up. Qrow didn’t meet his eyes. “How long do you think it’d take you to fully heal?”

Roman frowned, sitting up a bit straighter. “With Aura? Two or three full charges. Without? Two or three _months._ ”

“Mm."

Roman beset Qrow with a critical eye. “You’ve got something up your sleeve, haven’t you?”

“Jimmy _did_ give me something that could help,” Qrow admitted, reaching into his shirt. A flashdrive laid heavy in his hand, and Qrow swallowed. “But it’d need to be used at the right time since you’re being tracked. But I’m not sure I’ll be around long enough.”

Roman sat up fully, ignoring the pull of the needles as Qrow sat down on the edge of the bed. “Amazing, he actually likes you,” he snarked, raising an eyebrow. “What’s the plan?”

“Ruby and what’s left of JNPR are heading off to Haven to deal with Queen’s servants,” Qrow said, clenching his hands around the drive. “And I have to keep up Ozpin’s work.”

“So you’re leaving me behind?”

Panic colored Qrow’s tone. “Of course not!” His face fell immediately after, though. “Well, I don’t want to. It’s just. . .”

“There’s no time,” Roman finished for him. Qrow nodded.

“It’s not like I can leave you with this, either,” Qrow muttered, tucking the drive back in his shirt. “They’d find it immediately. And then -”

“They’d execute me?” Roman asked, and Qrow shot him a horrified glare. He looked to the side, however, knowing Roman was completely and utterly correct.

“I’m sorry,” he said, after a small pause. “I - I should’ve been there. O-or been with Ruby and took her spot. I know you weren’t aiming for anything vital, but Ruby told me. . . I know - I know -” Qrow’s voice choked up, and Roman’s mouth fell open.

“You could’ve died,” Qrow said, and his voice broke Roman’s heart.

“Oh, Qrow,” Roman whispered, sitting up fully and ignoring the pain of the needles moving under his skin. He wrapped his free hand around Qrow’s waist, burying his head in Qrow’s shaking shoulder. “I’m so sorry for scaring you. But we both know that I’ve gotten into this willingly.”

Qrow turned around, pulling Roman into his own embrace. Roman understood that Qrow hated being seen crying, but at the same time, he _needed_ to lay back down. “Come lay with me, lovebird,” he whispered, injuries twinging as they separated. Qrow froze at that special name, and Roman was proud to see his ears turn red. Qrow kicked his shoes off, slinking onto the bed and cuddling into Roman’s side. “Don’t worry,” Roman said, shifting to get comfortable. “You’re not hurting me.”

Roman closed his eyes, smirking as he felt the tension melt out of Qrow. He ran his hand over Qrow’s back, pushing past the pain of movement. “Look at you,” he whispered, and Qrow peeked upward, guilt still written all over his face. Roman leaned down, pressing a kiss to his head. “You’ve been so brave, haven’t you?”

Qrow doubted every word Roman said, but he had never been the type to voice his own insecurities unless forced. “I mean it, chickadee,” Roman said, leaning his head back. “I’d never take on someone who wasn’t as clever as me.” Qrow’s lips twitched up into a smile. “I know you’ll figure something out to get me out of doctor jail.”

Qrow snorted, confidence returning to his voice. “Yeah, I think I can manage something. Pull some Hunter strings.”

“Excellent.” Roman ran a hand down Qrow’s back, causing a delighted shiver. “My little huntsman’s keeping an eye out for me, isn’t he?”

Qrow’s resounding blush was answer enough in the positive.


	16. Day Sixteen - Morning Ritual(s)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More like a 'break' of a morning ritual in this one, if anything. Credit to my brother Zalmorick for giving a me a good idea on how to have this one play out, because I was downright stumped. Hence why this one is cutting it close to the midnight mark yet again. Special thanks to Mimizu_Kayama as well, for the gifted Magpie work.

“Mornin’, babe,” Qrow said, tilting his chin up as Roman entered the living room. Roman yawned in reply, hiding it behind his hand. Unlike Qrow, Roman had a tendency to sleep in and then spend _forever_ in the bathroom. However, Qrow couldn’t exactly begrudge the man for taking his time. Qrow smiled as Roman passed him and headed for the coffee machine, smelling strongly of passionfruit. As usual, his hair was styled elegantly over his eye, mascara coating the other in painstakingly beautiful lines. Clothes pressed, shoes shined. . . “You look nice.”

“I always do,” Roman replied, still sounding half asleep. He moved to the refrigerator, pulling out a few eggs for breakfast. Qrow had stopped trying to prep meals for Roman a long time ago - the man had very specific tastes that Qrow had never managed to get right. “How’re you?”

Qrow shrugged, rolling back his shoulders and grabbing the newspaper he’d dropped as Roman had come in. “Decent. Paper’s been pretty interesting.” He picked up his own coffee and continued to read, letting Roman go about his business. Compared to Roman, Qrow was an early riser of an ungodly caliber, an unfortunate side effect of being raised in a tribe, turning into a bird, and far too many nightmares. So, on most days, by the time Roman had risen and made his way into the bathroom, Qrow had already gathered the paper and finished his own meal. Case in point being Roman moving his dishes off to the side of the sink so he could run the tap himself.

“Anything fascinating?” Roman asked a bit later, once he had woken up more. He sat down across from Qrow, coffee and eggs in front of him.

“You’re in here again,” Qrow reported as Roman began to eat. Of course, Roman rolled his eyes at that announcement. “More Dust robberies. You’re the prime suspect.”

Roman smirked across the table, lifting his mug to his lips. “When am I not?”

“I’d prefer it if you weren’t in here every other day,” Qrow muttered, turning the page. “I _should_ technically be arresting you right now, you know.”

Roman waved him off. “Oh, please. Like I can’t charm the pants off you and every other authority figure in this city.”

Qrow gazed over the top of the paper, unable to keep from grinning. “Am I supposed to be taking that literally?”

“Obviously.~”

 

Qrow groaned as the pair exited Roman’s penthouse, Harbinger hanging heavy on his back. Roman ignored him, locking the door and tucking the keys inside his now-donned coat. As usual, his hat sat on his head, and his cane remained in his hands. Qrow paid him no mind in turn, heading down the plush-carpeted hallway to the elevators.

Roman entered the empty elevator after Qrow, sighing and pulling his Scroll out to check the time as he hit the button to close the door. 9:17, just in time to get back to the warehouse. Roman put his Scroll back in his pocket, flicking his eyes up to check the floor number.

Before the number could register, however, Qrow had grabbed a hold of Roman’s arm, spinning him around to face the back wall of the elevator. Melodic Cudgel clattered to the floor, and Roman gasped as he met the panelling face-first.

Qrow cozied up to his rear, kicking Roman’s legs apart and placing his one of his own in-between. “Like I said, I should be arresting you,” he murmured, the words hot against Roman’s ear. “Not like we’re in the privacy of your place any more.” Roman shivered, despite knowing the threat was entirely empty until they hit the streets. Having both hands pinned behind your back did wonders to a man’s constitution, after all. “Pity I can’t do more here,” Qrow said, almost melancholy in tone. His hand was anything but, running up the side of Roman’s leg and then curling around his chest. “Mess up that pretty little outfit of yours.”

“Someone’s in a mood today,” Roman replied with a shaky laugh. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Nothing, that’s the problem,” Qrow said, pulling back as the doors dinged. He took a few steps back, exiting the elevator as Roman picked up Melodic Cudgel. His glare didn’t reach Qrow, however, who had already headed for the glass doors of Roman’s apartment complex.

“We can fix that,” Roman said, a cool edge to his voice.

He could practically _hear_ Qrow’s smirk as the man waved at him from over his shoulder. “Punish me later.~”

Roman stepped out of the elevator in his own right, only to stop dead in his tracks and curse. Qrow’s laughter rang in his ears, and Roman grit his teeth in rage.

Qrow’s mission had been reported to last a _week_.


	17. Day Seventeen - A Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Cloudsleeper/HiroshiPotato for editing assistance on this chapter. Special mention to Sniphles2000 as well for allowing me to reference his OC's (Noah Motus and Vit Kanin) for Semblance world-building. Though I do have a question for the readers: the next chapter is called 'Favorite Spot', and I am very tempted to make it smutty. Yay or nay to the idea?

Roman knelt in the grass, hands bloody. Purple-stained rags piled next to him, steadily growing as Roman unbuttoned Qrow's shirt and threw it atop them. His own gloves laid off to the side next to the new bandages, disinfectant, and Qrow’s cape. He set his teeth as Qrow cried out into the night, flinching as Roman cleansed the cut. Qrow’s entire body shook in pain, and it took everything Roman had to stay calm. “Easy, lovebird,” Roman whispered, and a small smile appeared as Qrow’s muscles relaxed minutely. “There we go. I’m almost done.”

Qrow hissed as Roman applied a suture, but remained still as the wound got sewn shut. “I’m not sure how long this’ll last,” Roman muttered, keeping his voice low. “The venom is corrosive.” Qrow nodded, lips pursing to keep from crying. Roman reached for the bandages, wiping his hands down. He tossed the now-dirty ones atop the pile, and then took his time properly wrapping up Qrow’s torso. Roman leaned back on his haunches once he’d finished, running over his work with a critical eye. “There’s a river nearby,” he explained, tucking the medical supplies back into his coat. “I can have everything washed by morning; you should sleep by the fire.”

Qrow shook his head as forcefully as he could while still lost in the haze of pain. “No,” he grunted, trying to sit up. “I’ll stay over here.”

Well, now Roman at least knew _why_. “I know,” Roman replied, moving instead to sit by him. “I -” He paused and took a breath, ducking his head. “I understand why you didn’t tell me, but -”

“Don’t tell much,” Qrow interjected, one hand coming up to lay heavy on the now-bandaged slit in his skin. “Just m’teams - now this.” His other hand waved limply at the fire he couldn’t see. Roman took it before Qrow could hurt himself.

Roman looked to the fire in turn, Qrow’s many lectures that it’d just hurt his night vision ringing in his ears. He sighed and leaned back against the bark, closing his eyes. Qrow’d done so much for Roman as they’d traversed Sanus and Anima - he’d known how to steal to survive in cities, but never in the wilderness. Roman’s mind, in turn, slipped back to another lecture Qrow had given to him a year or two ago when they’d sparred.

 

Roman skidded back across the roof, raising Melodic Cudgel to block Qrow’s incoming strike. The man was _relentless_ , ducking under his own blow to swipe at Roman’s knees with a kick. Roman backflipped, keeping his weapon in hand. When he landed, Roman swung outward, catching Qrow in the side. Qrow hopped back, dodging any more blows from Roman and firing a few shots in riposte. Roman stood his ground, blocking each bullet with his cane. Roman lowered his weapon, panting, and Qrow grinned at him from across the roof, his sword balanced on his shoulder.

“You’re getting pretty good!” Qrow called out, and Roman barely kept the smile off his face. He knew Qrow _vastly_ outclassed him in fighting skill, but the praise still felt wonderful. Qrow leapt forward again, cutting off Roman’s thoughts. He raised to block, but Qrow ducked under his cane and wrapped an arm around Roman’s waist, his other hand grabbing the wrist that held Melodic Cudgel. Roman didn’t even hesitate to take advantage of the close quarters. Before Qrow could move to disarm Roman and suplex the man onto the concrete, he’d pressed their lips together. Qrow went slack in Roman’s embrace, before pushing him back with a heady blush.

“You can’t just do that every time to win a fight,” Qrow complained, narrowing his eyes. Roman walked past him, now allowing the smile to appear. He picked up Harbinger from where Qrow had dropped it in his attack, tossing the weapon back. Qrow caught it with an unhappy frown, calling after Roman. “It won’t always work, you know. You need to have more tricks up your sleeve. You’re not gonna always be fighting _me_.”

Roman turned and cast Qrow an unimpressed glare, crossing his arms. “I have plenty, excuse you. You haven’t even seen all the things Melodic Cudgel can do.”

Qrow sent a smile back in return. “I think I’ve seen enough~” he teased, sticking his hands in his pockets after he hooked Harbinger to the small of his back. Qrow walked forward, cocking his head. “That reminds me. I’ve never asked about your Semblance.” Roman’s expression darkened, and Qrow balked. “I - you don’t have to answer. I know it’s a private thing.” Qrow looked off to the side, grimacing. “I don’t like talking about mine either.”

“No, it’s -” Roman sighed and leaned against the rooftop entrance. He looked off into the skyline, not meeting Qrow’s eyes. “I’m risking a lot by telling you this, okay?” Qrow nodded, but didn’t say anything. The last thing he wanted was for Roman to feel pressured. Roman pursed his lips, staring at the ground. “I’ve - I don’t - I’ve never _found_ mine.”

Qrow’s mouth fell open. “You’ve made it this far without one?” Roman’s face went dark, but Qrow was beaming. “That’s amazing! I thought you had enhanced reflexes, or time dilation, or like, precognition! I’ve _never_ seen someone dodge like you do.”

Roman looked up, his ears turning red. “I -”

“Your only problem is being taken off guard,” Qrow went on, but shook his head soon after. “Yet you’ve always been able to counter me, which is why I had those ideas.” Qrow’s eyes had taken on that sharp glint that Roman had learned to mean trouble. “You weren’t formally trained either, right?”

Roman shook his head. “Nope. Learned most of what I know on the streets.” He looked off to the side, shrugging. “And if I’m being honest, I’d hadn’t even considered those. Always thought it had more to do with fire, or something.” He hefted his cane, running a hand down the barrel. “Always been drawn to explosions, but. . .”

“Nothing’s clicked yet,” Qrow finished with a nod. “Makes sense. Some are passive, too. But even then, you’ll know when you know.” Qrow grimaced as he saw Roman’s face fall at his words. Damn it, he’d _never_ been good at comforting people. “Y’know, it’s not all bad,” he said, sidling up to Roman against the brick. “There _are_ benefits to developing your Semblance later in life.”

Roman flicked his eyes over to Qrow, who kept talking. Even if Roman hadn’t said anything, Qrow could just keep babbling in hope that he’d distract him. “A couple years after my time at Beacon, they actually enrolled a few empaths. Had to develop their control _during_ their time at Beacon instead of when they actually had gotten past puberty.”

Roman snickered. “Musta sucked.”

Qrow nodded, bolstered by the small positive reaction. “Mhm. Pretty sure one of them is married to a Faunus from Hunter’s Guild.”

“Codename?”

“Rook. You won’t have to worry about her. I’m keeping you off their radar.”

Roman nodded in thanks, taking a deep breath. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Qrow replied, slinking an arm around Roman’s waist. “Plus, there’s just benefits in general. You get people like me to help you train once you discover it,” Qrow said, leaning his head on Roman’s shoulder, “and you already know yourself, so you’ll have a clearer head and more drive. Much less scary than if you’re a kid with no experience and get something like -” Qrow cut himself off. “Something like empathy. That’s terrifying for a kid to deal with.”

Roman rolled his eyes but leaned his head against Qrow’s in turn. “I’m going to ignore that double entendre about training,” he said, and smiled as Qrow burst out laughing. “But. . . Thank you. It’s just rough knowing that I could be so much _more_.”

Qrow kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry about it, pumpkin. I’ve got your back.”

 

In present day, Roman closed his eyes and leaned against Qrow, squeezing his hand. Now he knew why Qrow had never covered his own Semblance in any of their attempts to figure out Roman’s. Now he knew why Qrow had never stayed more than a night in the early goings of their relationship. Now he knew why Qrow had never bothered to do more than slink around whenever something had gone wrong.

Because he’d always thought it had been  _his fault_.

Roman’s throat went dry, and he blinked back tears. He had makeup to protect and clothes to wash and a boyfriend to keep alive. Taking a deep breath, Roman moved into a kneeling position and gently placed a kiss on Qrow’s head. “I’ll be back soon, chickadee,” he promised, standing. “I’m just gonna go clean up.”

Qrow had already passed out, head lolling against the tree bark like it was comfortable. Roman swallowed and grabbed the filthy rags, heading off into the night. He desperately needed some time to himself - to think, to plan, to _calm down_. A shiver of repressed rage and disgust passed through Roman as he walked between the trees.

Neither man had noticed the bright silver eyes of one Ruby Rose as she watched from beyond her bedroll.


	18. Day Eighteen - Favorite Spot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I got two reviews on this on this -one in dms and one as a comment- saying nay and yay to smut, respectively. So I kinda went with a teasing thing? Different universe than Chapter Seven.

As embarrassing as it was to admit, Qrow’s favorite spot in Remnant was Roman’s lap. He had his reasons for it, of course. The reactions were just too priceless. Roman could do so _much_ to him while Qrow sat there. He felt safe wrapped in another’s embrace. Sure, they were silly, and selfish, and each made Qrow smile for a different reason, but that made it all the sweeter, didn’t it?

 

_Monday, February 18th, PGW79, Beacon Tower, 15:37 Hours._

“Why is he here!” James thundered, more of an exclamation of anger than a true question. Behind the desk, Ozpin had steepled his fingers, ignoring the two quarreling men in front of him. Conversely, Glynda had rolled her eyes, not wanting their petty fight to continue for any longer than strictly necessary.

“Because he’s useful? Because I want him here? Because I don’t give a damn about you policing who helps us win this fight?” Qrow shot back, glaring daggers at Ironwood. Roman, meanwhile, sat lonely in his chair, having willingly surrendered Melodic Cudgel. His weapon leaned against the glass desk, teetering dangerously as Ironwood slammed his hand down.

“That is a known criminal! We should be arresting him, not entertaining him!”

“This is quite a show,” Roman interjected, unable to keep from smiling. “I am indeed _thoroughly_ entertained.”

“We should at least hear what he has to say,” Ozpin cut in, finally raising his head and stopping James before he could flip out at Roman instead of Qrow. “It can’t exactly hurt us to get new information.”

“And I doubt you’d be giving me anything in return,” Roman added flippantly, cocking his head with a smile. “We’re not exactly going for _quid pro quo_ here.”

Qrow rolled his eyes as Ironwood subsided, moving back over to Roman. The kingpin smiled up at him, leaning back on his chair and subtly patting his lap. “Need a seat?” he mouthed as Ozpin called for them all to return to the discussion at hand.

Qrow smirked back and pushed himself off of Ozpin’s desk, settling himself down side-saddle on Roman’s lap, as was only proper. He wrapped an arm around Roman’s shoulders, unable to keep from shooting him a fond smile before switching his gaze back to the other three.

Glynda, as usual, remained disappointed in them both. Ozpin, on the other hand, had sent the pair a genuine smile, knowingly winking at Qrow. The only reason Qrow resisted blushing was due to Ironwood, who had clutched the edge of the table in downright shock and horror.

“What?” Qrow asked innocently, shifting in Roman’s lap to get comfortable. He didn’t miss the small intake of breath from Roman. “I wanted to sit.” Roman, ever the type to make it worse, slinked an arm around Qrow’s waist and held him tight. He leaned his head on Qrow’s arm, smiling benignly up at the three people who he knew could kill him without a second thought.

Flustered and incensed, James could only gape at the couple.

 

_Monday, February 18th, PGW79, Roman’s Penthouse, Upper Class District, 21:08 Hours._

“You did that on purpose,” Roman chided, and Qrow looked up. He was sat in Roman’s lap again, this time with his back pressed to Roman’s front. They had returned to Roman’s penthouse an hour or two ago, had dinner, and now cuddled on the couch.

Qrow blinked, cocking his head as Roman ran a hand up his thigh. He spread his legs accordingly, allowing Roman to caress his inner thigh. “What’d I do?” he asked, leaning his head back on Roman’s shoulder.

“Start that fight,” Roman replied, slipping a hand under Qrow’s shirt.

Qrow swallowed thickly, but didn’t deny it. “He would’ve started going after you anyways,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I just went after him before he flew off the handle at you.” Qrow sucked in a breath at the end of his sentence, arching his back as Roman’s hand ran over a sensitive spot on his thigh.

“How kind,” Roman said, and Qrow chuckled at his dry tone. However, it soon turned to a moan as Roman bit into his neck, nibbling on the exposed flesh. A deep shiver ran through Qrow, and he cocked his head to give Roman more access to his neck.

“We gonna take this anywhere, or -”

“Turn,” Roman ordered, and Qrow froze for a split second. A smirk soon bloomed, however, and he swivelled on Roman’s lap, now face-to-face. A knee laid on either side of Roman’s legs, and Roman tilted his head back to grin at Qrow’s eager smile. Qrow set his left hand next to Roman’s head, his other hovering over Roman’s pants. Roman’s right hand, in turn, ran down Qrow’s chest, undoing the buttons as he went. His left, however, soon slapped against Qrow’s ass, causing the Hunter to gasp in pain. He looked off to the side, a small blush appearing. “Don’t get overconfident, now,” Roman scolded, pushing Qrow’s shirt to the side so he could lean forward and kiss along his skin. Qrow moaned into the night, only to cut himself off when Roman’s words registered in his ears. “I’m still debating on whether to take you in hand or not.~”

Qrow chuckled, ducking his head as a blush coated his cheeks. He moved his hand up accordingly, interlacing his fingers behind Roman’s neck. Unable to stop himself, he rocked against Roman’s lap, meeting Roman’s eyes with a teasing smile. “At least keep me here while you decide?~” he asked innocently, grinding their hips together.

Roman pressed his lips to Qrow’s, one hand snaking up his back and making Qrow shake in pleasure as he ran over a sensitive spot. Roman pulled back with a deadly smile. “I think I can allow that.~”

 

_Monday, February 18th, PGW79, Roman’s Penthouse, Upper Class District, 22:45 Hours._

Roman chuckled and ran his hand through Qrow’s hair. The Hunter in question had his head in Roman’s lap, nuzzling into the soft fabric of his pants. They’d moved to the bedroom a bit ago, and a blanket now laid over the pair’s bottom halves. “How are we, chickadee?” Roman asked, tone far softer than it was not an hour ago.

Qrow murmured something in reply, burying his head into Roman’s lap. Roman tapped his shoulder, and Qrow groaned, rolling onto his back instead of remaining on his side. He winced slightly, but shot Roman a hazy smile. “Still a bit sore,” he admitted, and Roman ran a hand across Qrow’s marked-up chest. “But otherwise pretty great.”

“Good to hear.” Roman continued to pet Qrow’s hair, smiling down at his handiwork. Deep red peppered Qrow's skin from his torso to his thighs, but Qrow’s expression only showed tired bliss. He rolled over once more, cuddling into Roman’s lap. “Comfortable?” Roman asked, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice.

“Mmhm,” Qrow replied, tossing his arm over Roman’s legs to keep him close. “Feels good here.” He blinked up at Roman, still nearly lost in subspace. “Can I stay here?”

“Well of course you can, chickadee.~”

 

As embarrassing as it was to admit, Qrow’s favorite spot in Remnant was Roman’s lap. He got to mess with people, he got to get fucked, but most importantly. . . He got to feel  _safe_.


	19. Day Nineteen - Formalwear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to dedicate this chapter to my good friend Macy, who was kind enough to draw the Roman I use as my icon. The inspiration for the outfits are the Valentine's Day skins for Roman and Qrow in Amity Arena, which you can most likely find on the Amity Arena Facebook page. The context of this chapter is that Roman survived the Fall of Beacon, and has been tagging along with the group to Mistral and Atlas, but hasn't been stupid enough to be spotted by any of Salem's crew. Thusly, a similar universe as Chapter Seventeen.

_Tuesday, February 19th, PGW82, Atlas Academy Entrance Hall, Atlas, 17:32 Hours._

 

Qrow posed in a hallway mirror, grimacing. He ran a hand along his now newly-shaven jaw, before shoving his hands in his pockets. Irritated embarrassment coated his cheeks, and he dropped his head before turning in place and checking over his shoulder. Two tails hung from his shoulders down to his mid-calf, shining red and gold in the light from the ornate chandelier that hung high above him. Qrow heard the bathroom door click, and called over his shoulder, “You sure I have to wear this? Or that I can’t bow out?”

Roman, the _bastard_ , was dressed in immaculate steampunk fashion and looked like an elegant little doll. He gave Qrow a slight curtsy, the split coat he wore billowing out at the waist. His red and gold jacket, buttoned over the right breast just like Qrow’s, matched Qrow’s fluttering tails. Their cravats matched too; white outlined in gold. Roman leaned on his newly-decorated cane, appraising Qrow with a critical eye. The man in question had traded his usual shirt for a pink and white one, and black gloves covered his hands. Ring bumps shone underneath the fabric, but what really stood out were the immaculate white shoes. Roman’s own black boots had been traded for shiny red ones, but that didn’t stop him from tilting his new red hat back and beaming at Qrow.

“Personally, I think you look _fantastic_ ,” Roman said, pulling himself up to his full height. Roman really considered himself a genius when it came to fashion, and he’d outdone himself with Qrow’s outfit. The shirt was just _slightly_ too tight on Qrow, hugging his muscles and defining every angle and curve of his body. “Pink may not _necessarily_ be your color, but you make it work.”

“My Aura is red,” he muttered, grabbing one of the tails and running his thumb over the ornate golden inlay. “I look ridiculous.”

Roman approached him and threw an arm around Qrow’s waist, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. He re-adjusted his arm to allow the newly-ribboned Harbinger room to rest on the small of Qrow’s back, keeping his own arm at mid-waist. “Do you doubt me, chickadee?” Roman asked, leaning his head on Qrow’s shoulder. Qrow’s mouth twisted up, and he looked to the ground instead of into Roman’s eyes via the mirror.

“Atlas fashion is just stupid,” Qrow eventually replied, scuffing his shoe against the plush carpet underneath their feet. He cast his gaze over to the open oaken doors that led to Atlas’ ballroom, where a few people were already milling about. He saw Jimmy and Winter in the small crowd, exchanging meaningless pleasantries. “As is their entire damn culture.”

Roman rolled his visible eye, but a small frown lingered. “I actually like it here,” he admitted, thumb running small circles across Qrow’s back. He shivered slightly, dropping the tail he still held. “It’s right up my alley.”

“What, the manipulation, the lies, the politicking?” Qrow asked, huffing as he listed off just a _few_ of the things he hated about Atlas.

“Well, yes. Along with the cigar service, the parties, the way they rise to power in the Kingdom.” Qrow blushed at the mention of cigar service, but remained quiet as Roman kept talking. “I’ve always wanted to live here. I _much_ prefer their high society compared to schlepping about the streets of Mistral and Vale.” Bitterness had entered Roman’s tone at that, and Qrow blinked.

Right, of course. Roman had grown up homeless and starving, stealing to survive and making himself famous in the criminal world because he simply didn’t have another option. “Sorry,” he muttered, shaking his head. Qrow shot Roman a small smile. “But I don’t think I could live in a place like this.”

Roman shot him a deadened glare, before smirking. “Well, with how many missions you take, you won’t have to~” he teased, taking Qrow’s hand and leading him into the ballroom. “I could manage our affairs by myself.”

Qrow snickered and matched Roman’s stride, keeping their fingers intertwined. They were both wearing gloves for once, and Qrow couldn’t wait to take them off so he could feel Roman’s skin on his own. He kept his tone light. “And what, be a housewife?” he joked.

Roman shot Qrow a teasing smile. “And what, be the person you can come home to?~”

Qrow blushed, but covered it up with a laugh as they walked into the ballroom, catching Jimmy’s attention. The General promptly became annoyed, as Qrow had expected. He turned away from James, tilting Roman’s chin up to him and separating their hands so he could grab the man by the waist. Roman was confused only for a split second, only for his eyes to spark in realization and finish what Qrow had started by closing the distance between their lips with a kiss.

“Y’know,” Qrow began with a smile, ignoring Ironwood as he stalked over. “I can get used to public scandal.~” Roman’s laughter echoed in his ears, drowning out Ironwood’s angry snarls.

From the shadows, Neopolitan watched with wide eyes and open mouth, shock and hope fluttering in her chest.


	20. Day Twenty - Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation of Chapter Nineteen. Special thanks to Cloudsleeper/HiroshiPotato for editing assistance.

_Wednesday, February 20th, PGW82, Atlas Academy Ballroom, Atlas, 00:02 Hours._

 

The dance was finally winding down. Unseen by most of the crowd, Roman and Qrow had migrated to a secluded part of the easternmost balcony. Together, they leaned against the golden railing, hands running dangerous over each other’s bodies. The soft orchestra obscured their words, but half the time their lips weren’t even talking.

Roman cast his eyes over to the main ballroom, sighing in bliss as Qrow moved his cravat to the side in order to kiss at his neck. General James Ironwood stood at the doorway, thanking the guests for their time as they filtered out of the room. Winter stood by his side, with Oscar and Weiss next to her. RBY/JNR were off at the catering table, while Maria had started chatting up some of the lingering scientists.

Roman’s hand found Qrow’s waist, bringing the man’s attention from his neck up to his face. He put Roman’s cravat back in its proper place, cocking his head in silent question. Roman nodded over to the quieting orchestra, offering Qrow his hand. “Last dance?” he offered, and Qrow took it with a smile.

Qrow led of course, being the taller, bulkier man compared to Roman’s thinner frame. Neither of them compared to the General of course, who had resumed glaring as the pair entered his scope of view. Thankfully, neither the common nor rich populace of Atlas had ever cared for the lowlifes of Vale, and Roman could be spun around the room without a care in the world. Qrow had taken Roman by several levels of surprise with his knowledge about dancing earlier in the night, knowing everything from the waltz to the most complicated tango.

They waltzed now, the moon too high in the sky to warrant any dance that was less than elegant. Their high-octane moves had been shown off earlier in the night in the midst of Qrow confessing that he and his sister had taken dance classes back at Beacon. ‘To fit in,’ he’d explained as Roman had been dipped, before spinning him around once more. ‘We weren’t exactly the most normal pair of twins in Beacon.’ Roman had met Qrow’s lips after the admission, professing he wouldn’t’ve had Qrow any other way.

Back in the present they met in a kiss once again, Roman clinging onto Qrow’s new shirt to deepen the kiss and match the passion from earlier in the night. Roman pulled back, Qrow catching his hands in his own before spinning him around once more. Their steps came practiced and easy, and neither man thought that the night could end in a negative way.

Of course, fate was always against Qrow Branwen. As he readied Roman for another spin, he felt someone tap his waist. Qrow turned, mouth falling open at the smiling little girl behind him. Roman gasped, but the girl had already asked a question in Atlesian Sign Language that Qrow didn’t understand.

“Of course you can,” Roman said, smooth as ever. He tapped Qrow’s side several times as they disengaged, and Qrow remained thankful that he at least understood Morse code.

‘ _Get kids_ ,’ Roman tapped, taking Neo’s hands. She beamed up at him, tears forming in her multicolored eyes. “Looks like I owe Red an apology,” Roman said, now addressing Neo as he took her to the center of the floor. “I thought she’d killed you.”

Neo lifted her hands between their bodies as Roman picked her up for a spin. “Likewise,” she signed, pulling Roman into a hug once she had been set down. Roman wrapped an arm around her in turn, but grabbed her other hand to lead her around the room in dance. She ducked under his arm to be twirled around, smiling up at Roman in her unique, murderous way. Neo dropped his hands for a moment to sign, “I actually came here to kill her.”

Roman snickered and dipped Neo by the waist, and Neo accordingly kicked her leg up. “Dropping that plan, or?” he asked, and Neo pursed her lips in consternation. She shrugged and flipped her hair, taking Roman’s hands instead of answering. Roman rolled his visible eye. “Red hasn’t hurt me. Loads of other people, sure, but not me.”

Neo narrowed her eyes and jerked her head over to Qrow with a frown. Roman smiled and spun her around once more, holding her arm out so she could twirl in a circle like a ballerina. “Yeah, I’m still with that Hunter.” Roman booped Neo’s nose as she met him in the middle once more, causing her to wrinkle her face. “I like him. You’re not allowed to kill him.”

Neo pulled back with a small shimmy, which Roman mimicked. Neo slyly cut her eyes over to the edge of the ballroom, and Roman kept his face carefully blank. He didn’t look over to that corner until he’d taken Neo’s hands once more and led her through the motions of a simple two-step. As they spun, Roman bit the inside of his cheek once he saw the burning golden eye of Cinder Fall glaring out from the darkness. But of course, it wasn’t as easy as Roman had hoped, oh no. Instead of staring daggers at Roman, her eyes tracked Ruby Rose instead. Roman frowned down at Neo, who blinked innocently up at him. “I’m sadly not allowed to let Red die either,” Roman sighed, dipping Neo.

If she had the ability, Roman remained positive that Neo would’ve groaned in frustration in that moment. She jerked her head over to the catering tables, where Qrow had begun herding out the kids. Roman and Neo passed the western balcony, and Roman shivered as he felt the wind begin to pick up. Roman forced out a smile, dancing with Neo back into the center of the ballroom. “You took my last dance of the night, you know,” he scolded, and Neo threw her head back in silent laughter.

She separated from Roman, cycling her shoulders back while swinging her hips. “I’ll make it up to you,” she signed, eye colors flipping to contrast her hair. Roman snorted, holding out a hand. Neo took it and swung back into position, Roman’s arm supporting her shoulders as she dipped low to the ground. Her leg kicked up, and Roman righted her into a spin.

“By stealing my clothes?” he teased, and Neo beamed at him. She ran her right hand over his ascot, holding his right hand with her left. Neo rolled her shoulder burlesque-style, before swinging back in front of Roman.

“It’s all I had left.” Neo met his eyes, and after Roman had smiled at her, he flicked his eyes up over her head to see Qrow leaning on the doorframe. She tugged on his coat, and Roman looked back down at her. “I’m so happy to see you,” she signed. “But you should go dance with him while you have the chance. I’ll do what I can.”

Roman nodded and kissed her head, clutching Neo close as she threw her arms around his middle. “See you later,” he promised, pulling back and heading over to Qrow. Neo nodded in resignation and stalked toward where Cinder remained hidden, too blinded by hatred to notice that her associate had gone off plan.

Qrow raised an eyebrow as Roman approached him, but took the proffered hand. “Well?” he asked as Roman tugged him close.

“You good to fight?” Roman whispered in his ear, and spun Qrow around so he didn’t have time to search the ballroom with his eyes. Qrow frowned down at him, but nodded nonetheless. Roman pressed their lips together, relieved that he didn’t taste too much liquor on his boyfriend’s lips. He pulled back from the kiss, Qrow’s hands heavy on his hips. Only a few members of the orchestra remained, the rest having gone and packed up into the storage room behind the ballroom. Roman let his gaze fall on the balcony they’d left to take their final dance. He spun around Qrow, dragging the man with him. “One last dance,” he said firmly, and Qrow didn’t hesitate to take his hands with a wolfish smile.

“One last dance,” Qrow agreed, spinning Roman around and dipping him. “You going for a smoke after?”

“Yes,” Roman said with determination, and Qrow soon understood exactly which balcony the smoke would be coming from. Roman’s gaze had lingered far too long on the westernmost one, after all. Qrow pulled him up with a sigh.

“Be safe.”

Roman smirked at him, eye glimmering. “Oh, but I thought you’d join me~”

Qrow rolled his eyes, but then met Ironwood’s over Roman’s head. The two shared a subtle nod, and James spun on his heel as Roman and Qrow spun into the middle of the dancefloor. “And why would I do that?"

Roman grinned up at Qrow as he was dipped for the final time. “Cigar service.~”


	21. Day Twenty One - Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the beginning of the "Cyber Security" AU! Obviously related to any other chapter I mentioned having the CSAU. Also, if anyone gets what I'm referencing down at the end of the chapter, niiice! \o/

Roman tilted his head back, smiling beatifically up at Ironwood. “Well hello there, General. Come to pay me another visit?~” He leaned forward in his little cell, balancing an elbow on his knee and his head on his chin. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

The General shot him a flat look, not caring one iota for the nonsense Roman had a tendency to pull. Unlike Roman, who sat on a tiny bench blocked by a Hard Light shield, Ironwood stood tall and proud with two robotic guards behind him. “I’m not here to play your games. This is an interrogation, plain and simple.”

“Truly, I appreciate your tender mercies,” Roman said, waving his free hand. “But they get awful monotonous. Can’t we mix it up a little?” Roman threw a wink in at the end, just to make the General angry. His narrowed eyes sent a lovely thrill through Roman, and he couldn’t help but smirk.

“You can _mix it up_ by actually telling me the truth,” Ironwood said, setting his jaw. “It’s painfully obvious you’re still taking orders from someone, and I intend to find out exactly who that may be.”

“Oh General, I don’t take orders from just anyone~” Roman teased, leaning back on the metal of his cell and crossing his legs. “What makes you think I’ll answer to you?”

Something glimmered in Ironwood’s eyes, setting Roman on edge. “I happen to have the knowledge that you’ll listen to me out of favor to Qrow Branwen.”

Roman wasn’t stupid enough to keep his face in a mask of careful blankness, oh no. He let genuine confusion shine through with furrowed brows and downturned lips. Roman cocked his head at the General as he spoke. “I didn’t know I had such an effect on the Hunter.”

“You should be glad that you do. His word is the only thing keeping you from being put under an Aura collar.” At that, Roman’s eye widened in shock, his mouth falling open. Well, that certainly was new. He ducked his head soon after, a low chuckle leaving him.

“And what would it take for me to get my hands on one of those?”

Ironwood glared at him. “Don’t try to change the subject. The safety of Vale is an inter-Kingdom matter, and one I take _very_ seriously. You should -”

“You should’ve found it by now, then.”

The General blinked at him. “What?”

Roman leaned back on the metal, letting the natural shadow of the cell cover his face. One hand came up and rubbed his upper arm, but he never met the General’s eyes. “It’s not my fault if you’re an idiot,” he said, an airy, detached tone in his voice. “But if you really care so much, you would’ve had this dealt with by now.”

“Theoretically, we do,” Ironwood said slowly, taking a step forward. “We’ve got you in our custody.”

“Exactly. You have _me_.”

Ironwood’s eyes narrowed. “So you’re admitting you’re working for someone. Who’s behind this, then?”

“You know,” Roman began, a small smile slipping onto his face. “You should ask Qrow. I’ve never been the type to spell it out for him. But unfortunately, he’s notoriously bad at putting two and two together until push comes to shove.”

Sufficiently distracted, the General reared back. “What exactly is your relationship with Qrow?”

Roman laughed at that, crossing his arms. “Tell my chickadee that if he knows what’s good for him, to treat it like the theatre.”

“What does that even mean?!”

Roman wouldn’t answer.

 

“I just don’t understand him,” James complained, sitting himself down on Qrow’s beat-up couch. After his ‘interrogation’ of Roman, he’d gone over to the Huntsman’s miniature one-bedroom apartment to get his side of the story. “Nothing he says ever makes sense.”

Qrow looked up from where he was pouring himself and Jimmy two glasses of scotch. “What _did_ he say?” Qrow asked, moving around the kitchen counter to the couch. He passed Jimmy a glass, which the man took with a nod of thanks. Qrow remained standing, leaning against the easternmost wall next to his bed.

James rolled his eyes before answering. “Utter nonsense, as usual. Seemed pretty interested in the Aura collar, for one.” James watched as Qrow blushed slightly and took a sip of his drink, before narrowing his eyes. “What is your relationship with him? He said something about you treating this like it was _theatre_ of all things. And he had a _nickname_ for you!”

Qrow met James’ eyes at that. “What’d he call me?” he asked, taking another drink.

“‘My chickadee’,” James said, as if the words were dirty.

Qrow nodded, crossing his arms and keeping his glass aloft. “He wants me to pay attention to whatever you’re reporting, then. Did he give you any new information?”

James rolled his eyes and settled back on the couch, taking a pull of his own drink. “Perspective, if anything. Said if I really cared, that I would’ve already had this solved by now. He reinforced that we’d only captured _him_ as well.”

Qrow furrowed his brow, biting his lip as he thought. “Maybe it has something to do with the people who attacked Autumn. I was too busy getting her to safety to take all three of them on.” Qrow paused for a moment, before looking up at James. “Didn’t you say something happened to the CCT? Could be the same person.”

James shook his head. “I had my men search the CCT networks for any type of bug or alteration. There was _nothing_. No data was missing, or stolen, or even tampered with."

Qrow frowned. “Not even the security footage of the break-in?”

James sighed and pulled out his Scroll, opening it up and flicking through it to find the file dedicated to the CCT infiltration. He slid it across Qrow’s table, and the Hunter pushed himself off the wall to pick it up. “The video blacks out a bit during the fight to obscure the face, but that was to be expected. Your niece only mentioned her wearing a mask and having a hideout - which we’ve already dealt with due to Torchwick and the Breach.” Qrow had frozen as James spoke, clutching the Scroll as if his life depended on it. James blinked at him, sitting up straighter and setting his drink down. “Qrow?”

“That’s the girl who attacked Autumn,” Qrow said, handing the Scroll back to James. He gaped at the Hunter, who remained resolute in his assumption, even if his hand shook around his glass. “The hair’s longer, sure, but the weapons and build are the same.”

“You’re sure,” James breathed, before shaking his head and tucking his Scroll away. “No, you must be. I -” James sighed and dropped his head. “Thank you. This is invaluable information.”

Qrow, on the other hand, had settled back on the wall, frown deepening. “I’m not sure that was what Rome was getting at, though.”

“‘Rome’?” Jimmy asked, incredulous.

“How did he phrase it?” Qrow asked, flicking his gaze up to James and ignoring his spluttering. “Roman’s a special kind of specific when he wants me to do something.”

James pushed his horror at that statement aside, shaking his head. “Like I said. He said I should’ve figured this all out by now if I really cared.”

“‘Figured it out’,” Qrow clarified, “not ‘find her’?”

“If anything, it was ‘find _it_ ’. He didn’t mention the attack on the CCT at all.”

“We’re missing something, then,” Qrow said, clenching his free fist. He sighed and finished off his drink, heading back over to his kitchenette. “Something obvious.” Qrow poured himself another glass, holding out the bottle to James when he finished. Jimmy shook his head, hefting his half-full glass in explanation.

“And what do you think that would be?” James shot back sourly.

Qrow groaned and knocked back half of his refill in one go. “Theatre, only captured him, didn’t mention anyone else, find it. . .” he muttered to himself, leaning on the counter. Qrow stared down into his glass as if the liquor would answer for him. “Find what, babe?” Qrow shook his head, groaning. “A new book? Something to add to your collec -” Qrow cut himself off.

“Qrow?” James inquired, now concerned due to the look on Qrow’s face.

“You said you only searched for what was missing, or tampered with.”

Jimmy raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”

“You didn’t look for if anything was added. Anything that was just there, lurking in the background -not to be malicious or harmful- but just to scan for information.”

James’ mouth dropped open. “Whoever put something like that in could have access to everything on the students and the government,” he breathed, setting his glass down. “Semblances. Secrets.” James’ expression turned hard. “No wonder that bastard is so confident in that cell. He knows he’s going to be rescued.”

“Hey,” Qrow interjected lightly, staring Jimmy down. “That bastard just so happened to have given us vital information. No need to be so rude.”

“I don’t understand why you’re defending him,” James spat, crossing his arms. “Even if this conclusion of yours is correct, he’s still a major criminal.”

Qrow shrugged and knocked back more of his scotch. Screw it, he could probably get Roman off free of some charges due to this. “I mean, I’m not just gonna stand here and let you rag on my boyfriend. He just betrayed one of Queen’s associates for us, after all.”

“YOUR WHAT?!”


	22. Day Twenty Two - In Combat/Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit again to Cloudsleeper/HiroshiPotato for editing help; here's to hoping I get better with every fight I write. Thanks to my friends RNMKR and GuppyDesu as well for analyzing Roman's hand to hand style with me. And if this feels familiar to anyone reading this, I took inspiration from the Will Ospreay/Zack Sabre Jr. REVPRO match to write this chapter.

Roman groaned, leaning against a nearby tree for support. On the rare days when he and Qrow had no other obligations, both men enjoyed a good sparring session. They’d claimed the edge of the Emerald Forest as one of their favorite spots, along with Roman’s rooftop and the bedroom. The summer sun hung high in the sky above them, however, striking out the second option. The third had already been dealt with several times over.

Qrow stalked forward, holding out his left hand with a smile. “You’re getting a lot better with hand-to-hand,” Qrow complimented. “Your weapon helps a lot with that. Good foundation and raw strength.” Roman took his hand with his own smile, standing and stretching. His moment of respite didn’t even extend to a thank-you, because Qrow’s right hand arced out and slammed into Roman’s side, sending him skidding back into the tree. “But you still _suck_ when someone takes you by surprise.”

His head cracked against the bark with a sickening thud, and Aura glowed around his skull like a halo. Grimacing, Roman pulled himself to his full height, blocking Qrow’s incoming left hook with his right forearm. Before Qrow could hit him again, Roman kicked out with his left leg, pivoting on his right. Qrow stumbled back, winded for only a moment. He snapped his gaze up to Roman, unable to keep from smirking at the sight.

Due to the heat of the sun, both men had thought it prudent to disrobe their upper halves. Roman’s jacket and knitted black shirt laid over a tree branch, neatly folded with his hat and gloves balanced on top. Qrow’s shirt and cape, conversely, laid in a crumpled heap under the branch next to their weapons, which leaned against the trunk. But in all honesty, neither man focused on their weapons. Instead, they only had eyes for each other, flicking over their bodies in breathless appreciation and anticipation of the next attack.

Qrow, as usual, made the first move, darting across the clearing and kicking his leg up at Roman’s head. Roman dodged to his right, swiping at Qrow’s other leg. Qrow fell back into a suicide kip-up, switching into a backflip and landing on his feet. He transitioned into a roundhouse kick, and Roman dodged. Roman was a man who primarily fought on the defensive, blocking each strike that was thrown at him until he found his own opening.

Such as when Qrow charged him within the next few seconds, for instance. Roman ducked under Qrow's outstretched arm, spinning behind him and grabbing Qrow by the throat. Roman slammed Qrow onto the ground, stepping back to give himself enough room for a kick to the head. Qrow ducked the blow, catching Roman’s leg as it sailed over him and pulling the man onto the ground with him. Roman fell down hard on his front, Qrow having already rolled away and stood up. With a snarl, Roman swiped at Qrow’s legs, but Qrow hopped back and steadied himself against a tree. Roman, never one to miss an opportunity in his own right, kipped up and beset Qrow with several uppercuts against the rough bark. Qrow grabbed his arm as Roman went in for a fourth, but the hold didn’t last.

One high knee to the chest later, and Qrow’s mind was sufficiently clouded to be pinned to the tree by Roman’s boot to his neck. Qrow struggled, breath fading, before kicking out at Roman’s exposed side and inner thigh. Roman dropped the hold with a swear, taking several steps back. Qrow shot out a few quick punches, and Roman dodged every single one - except for the last. The last he caught, and pulled Qrow toward him and onto his front. Roman dropped to his knees, trapping Qrow’s arm underneath his leg, with his neck locked between the ankle of his boot and his calf. Roman grabbed one of Qrow’s legs and savagely pulled it toward his own body, causing the Hunter to cry out in pain.

The submission didn’t last, of course. As soon as Qrow had a handle on the pain of being stretched, he kicked at Roman’s head, breaking his grip - and would have done the same to his face, if not for Aura. Roman rolled away panting, and Qrow took the moment to raise himself to his feet. Before Roman registered Qrow standing, Qrow had hit him with a solid dropkick, followed up by a double-stomp to the chest.

With a terrible cough, Roman rolled through the dirt and out of the way of whatever else Qrow had in mind for an attack. Qrow dived in for a blow at Roman’s knees once he had his footing about him, but Roman dodged and kicked Qrow solidly in the skull. Dazed, Qrow fell forward on his knees, breath knocked out of him. Roman, ever sadistic, balanced Qrow’s chin on his boot, lifting the Hunter’s head so he could look Roman in the eyes as he got kicked once more. With a crack like a cannon, Qrow fell backward, spread-eagled.

Taking a moment to regain himself, Roman brushed his person off with a sigh. Qrow, behind him, had rolled onto his knees, balancing himself on the trunk of the tree. Roman turned to face Qrow with a smirk, only for Qrow to hit him with a backflip headscissors, assisted by the sturdy trunk of the tree.

Roman, catapulted by the move, slammed into a nearby outcropping of rocks. The pair had done their best to avoid it during their spars, but Qrow’s Semblance always had a way of destroying even the best-laid plans. Qrow landed on his feet, horror written all over his face. “Roman!” he called out, heart stopping. Qrow sped across the clearing, bending down by Roman with a hand touching his shoulder. His shoulder, which currently flickered with the wounded light of Roman’s Aura.

For a few terse seconds, Roman didn’t answer. But when he did, Qrow breathed out a sigh of relief. “I’m fine,” Roman muttered, moving into a sitting position. One hand covered his eye, and a deep shiver ran through his glimmering body. “My Aura took the brunt of it.”

“I can see that,” Qrow said, taking Roman’s hand. He froze, but didn’t tell Qrow to move. “But still, let me look.” Roman dropped his hand, sourness in his frown. Unblemished green eyes met burning red ones, and Qrow dropped his head onto Roman’s shoulder with a relieved exhale. “Thank the Brothers,” Qrow murmured to himself, before pulling back and surveying him once more. No blood, no scars, but still, all of the fear. “We should stop for today.”

Roman nodded, still slightly out of it due to his brush with near-impalement. Qrow slipped an arm under his boyfriend’s thighs, the other around his back, and picked him up. Roman gave a short laugh, wrapping his arms around Qrow’s neck in turn. “Well aren’t you suddenly a gentleman~” he joked, resting his head on Qrow’s shoulder.

“Gotta take care of my pumpkin _sometime_ ,” Qrow teased back, rubbing his head against Roman’s as he walked back across the clearing. Roman chuckled as Qrow set him down next to their clothes, shimmying out of his arms to lean against the tree. Qrow bent down and picked up his shirt, tugging it over his head. Roman disengaged his shirt from his pile and pulled it on as Qrow clipped on his cape. However, as Roman reached for his jacket, Qrow grabbed it first. Roman raised his eyebrows, but held his arms out accordingly once just what Qrow was trying to do clicked.

Soft as could be, Qrow threaded Roman’s arms through the coat. He did up the buttons one by one, and Roman laid a heavy hand on Qrow’s shoulder. “Look at you,” he breathed, smirking at Qrow once the man had finished and met his gaze. Roman closed the distance between them with a thankful kiss. He leaned back against the tree, grabbing his hat and gloves and accessorizing his person, as was only natural. Meanwhile, Qrow had clipped Harbinger to the small of his back. Roman slid his hand around Melodic Cudgel’s handle, raising the cane over Qrow’s shoulder.

The Huntsman blinked as the scope was raised. “What are you -”

A shot rang out, whistling into the forest. Qrow flinched away, a hand coming up to cover his ear. Thanks to his Aura, his head wasn’t actually singed, but the residual heat still burned. The Ursa Roman had fired at did not suffer such a gentle fate, however. With a roar and a boom, the Grimm detonated into wisps of ash.

“Oh.” Qrow shot Roman a weak smile. “Guess that scare earlier attracted it. Thanks.”

Roman smiled back at Qrow in turn, lowering his weapon. He sidled back up to Qrow, letting the taller man wrap his arms around his waist. Roman shot Qrow a sly smile. “Gonna keep carrying me?~” Qrow chuckled and swept Roman up and into his arms, causing the man to squeak in surprise. Roman locked his arms around Qrow’s neck with a gasp and a glare. He balanced Melodic Cudgel between their bodies, setting his jaw as Qrow leaned down to press a kiss on his head. “I didn’t mean like that,” Roman complained, ever a priss.

Qrow chuckled, low and dark. “I’ll make it up to you, babe.~”


	23. Day Twenty Three - Arguing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's angry time. :^)

_Saturday, February 23rd, PGW78, The Rose-Xiao Long Household, Patch, Vale, 19:27 Hours._

 

“What’s with all the screaming?” Qrow asked, leaning out of the bathroom and toweling his hair dry. Tai shrugged and gestured down to the living room, where Ruby and Yang were squealing louder than what should’ve been humanly possible.

“Ruby just got back from her trip to Vale. She said she was picking up some stuff for her new year at Signal, but she could barely get the words out about what happened over there.” Tai chuckled and shook his head. “Musta been somethin’ big.”

“No kiddin’,” Qrow snorted, ducking back into the bathroom. A few moments later he exited, now dressed. Tai took to the stairs first, looking over his shoulder at Qrow.

“You stayin’ the night?”

Qrow shook his head. “Nah. Got a few things to do in Vale.” Tai shot him a flat look, and Qrow grinned back. “What?~”

Before Tai could snark back, Ruby had sped past him and tackled Qrow in a massive hug. “UNCLE QROW! GUESS WHAT!”

Qrow blinked down at her, having easily caught Ruby many a time before in his arms. He walked to the living room, where Yang was excitedly bouncing on the couch. “Uhhh, lemme guess,” Qrow said, dropping Ruby on the couch next to her sister. He flipped Ruby’s hood over her head and then stuck his hands in his pockets. “Youuuuuu. . . Learned how to run on water with your Semblance?”

“No, silly,” Ruby said, readjusting her hood. She jumped up on the table, and both Tai and Qrow winced. “Dad. Uncle Qrow. I, Ruby Rose, am proud to announce that I’ve been accepted into Beacon!"

Yang gave another excited squeal, grabbing Ruby by the middle and pulling her down and into her lap. “I’m so proud of you!”

Tai and Qrow were far slower on the uptake. Qrow frowned at Tai, raising an eyebrow. “Since when does Beacon take early admission?”

“They don’t,” Tai began slowly, only for Ruby to shove a piece of paper in his face. She danced in front of him, hopping from foot to foot with pure glee. Tai took the paper, and Ruby sped back to Yang so the girls could continue squeeing. Tai took a moment to peruse the letter before handing it over to Qrow. “That’s Beacon’s acceptance letter. Matches Yang’s."

Ruby, who was now sitting upside-down on the couch, frowned up at them both. “Would it even matter? Professor Ozpin gave it to me in person.”

Qrow set the letter down on the table, moving over to the chest of drawers so he could lean on them. “How’d this even happen, kiddo?”

Ruby shimmied into a proper sitting position, grabbing the letter and hugging it as if it had replaced her favorite Beowolf plush. “I was in ‘Dust til Dawn’, right?” she started, and Yang nodded with heavy encouragement. “And there was a robbery happening! I fought the guy and his goons off -he shot at me like twice-, and Professor Goodwitch appeared to help me! She was kinda mean, but she took me to meet Professor Ozpin, and he let me in!”

Ruby looked like she was on the verge of fainting from happiness, while Tai’s brows had knitted together. “What did he say to y -” Tai began, but Qrow cut him off.

“Did you get the name of the guy you fought?” Qrow asked, far too calm.

Ruby bit her lip, cocking her head. “I think it was that Torchwick guy who’s always on the news.” Her face fell. “I’m sorry - I didn’t catch him.”

“Heh, that’s okay, kiddo,” Qrow said, pushing himself off of the TV stand. Tai shot him a look of pure alarm. Qrow walked over and ruffled Ruby’s hair, and she grabbed his arm with a smile. “Glad I got to hear your story. Congrats on gettin’ in.” Qrow looked off to the side, and only Tai noticed the way his free hand shook. “But it’s gettin’ late for me. Gotta head out."

“Awww, boo,” Yang complained, flumping back on the couch. “You should stay and celebrate!”

“Believe me, I’d love to,” Qrow said, waving over his shoulder at Yang, who crossed her arms at him. Qrow had learned by then to not ruffle Yang’s hair. He gave Tai’s shoulder a squeeze as he walked by him. “But I’ve got stuff to do.”

“See ya, Uncle Qrow!” Ruby called, and the door Qrow had passed through fell shut with a harsh clack.

 

 

_Saturday, February 23rd, PGW78, Roman’s Penthouse, Upper Class District, Vale, 21:00 Hours._

 

In another part of Vale, another door had fallen shut in its own right. Roman Torchwick sighed and rolled his shoulders back, leaning Melodic Cudgel on the fireplace as he undressed. Ever precise, Roman placed his hat, gloves, and coat in their proper place in the hall closet. As he turned to the room at large, however, he was grabbed roughly by the shirt and shoved against his door.

Roman winced as his head slammed into the wood, cracking open an eye to gaze up at his assailant. Ah, Qrow. “Well aren’t you feisty tonight?” he asked, doing his best to _not_ be terrified by those burning red eyes.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Qrow hissed, low and dangerous. Decidedly not sexy, then.

Roman blinked and tried to stand up straight, but only received another shove against the wood for his efforts. He narrowed his eye at Qrow, keeping his voice level. “What did I do?”

Qrow snarled, and Roman resisted flinching by the skin of his teeth. “What did you do?” Qrow asked, near hysteria. “That was my niece you shot at, you jackass!”

“Oh.” Roman paused and took a breath. “Well, that explains the scythe.”

“You could’ve killed her!”

“It’s not my fault if she’s an idiot!” Roman shot back, never one to back down. Which wasn’t necessarily the best option, as the look in Qrow’s eyes changed from furious to downright murderous. Roman backpedaled. “Red blocked the first shot -” he nodded to Melodic Cudgel, “but just _stood there_ as I threw a Burn crystal at her.” His eyes narrowed. “I wasn’t aiming to kill your niece. She had full Aura.”

“You didn’t know that!”

“What do you want from me, then?” Roman asked, managing to push Qrow away from him by the chest. He dropped his hands and took a few steps back, breathing hard. Qrow's hands had curled into fists, and Roman remained by the door, ever wary. “It’s not like I can apologize _to_ her.” Qrow remained silent, closing his eyes. Roman raised his hands in placation. “Look, I’m sorry for attacking your niece.”

“Just - just promise you won’t do it again,” Qrow said, voice shaking with rage.

Roman rolled his eyes and dropped his hands. “I’m a thief, not a pedophile. I’m not gonna go after Red. If anything, she’d come after _me_.” Qrow opened his eyes at that, turning back to Roman. Roman sighed in relief when he saw more skepticism than fury in his gaze. “Red wouldn’t take no for an answer and followed me all the way to the getaway Bullhead,” Roman explained, crossing his arms. “It’s like she thinks she’s some kind of hero.”

Qrow huffed and walked over to Roman’s drinks cabinet, shoulders drooping. “Sounds like Ruby,” he muttered, pulling out a glass for himself. He paused as he grabbed a bottle. “Thank you.”

Roman hesitated before stepping forward. “We good?”

Qrow grunted in the affirmative. “Don’t involve my family in this _ever again_ ,” Qrow warned, pointing the bottle at Roman as he turned around. For a split second, Roman saw not Qrow the man, but Qrow Branwen the Huntsman - deadly and dangerous and quite capable of killing Roman before he even realized he was under attack.

With a nod, Roman finally stepped away from the door, uncrossing his arms. “Understood.” He looked over to the ground once he stood next to the kitchen island, the marble being the only thing separating their bodies. Roman ran a hand over the cool, smooth surface. “I probably would’ve been just as angry if someone went after my family.”

Qrow cocked his head as he finished pouring himself a glass. “You have family?” he asked as he put the bottle back.

Roman nodded with a small smile. “Yeah. A younger sister.”

“Mm.”

A moment passed.

“I have an older one. Her name’s Raven.” Roman looked over at Qrow, who stared into his glass with a despondent, resigned frown. “I - I don’t think I’d be able to stop her if she gets wind of us and decides to investigate. So there’s your warning if she ever pops by.”

“How reassuring,” Roman snarked, rolling his eyes. He shot Qrow a self-confident smirk, ignoring the downright horrifying implication of someone being stronger than Qrow. “I’m sure I could charm her.”

Roman had never heard Qrow laugh so hard in the entire time they’d been together.


	24. Day Twenty Four - Selfie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had several ideas running around my head for this one, and I couldn't really settle on one. If it feels a bit choppy or short, that's why. Sorry for cutting it close to the edge on this one; I'm working on a few essays in my spare time and they're really eating everything up. However, that doesn't mean I won't put my all into these!

Qrow sighed and settled down on a branch, fluffing his feathers. With a stretch of his wings, Qrow transformed back into a human, now straddling the branch. With a groan, Qrow leaned forward and popped his back, before sitting upright and rolling his shoulders into place.

The flight back from Mistral had been long and hard, with no shortage of Grimm along the way. But, as he closed in on Vale, hope fluttered in his chest for the first time in the long three weeks. Qrow settled back on the branch, bracing his body on the rough bark and pulling out his Scroll. Several dozen message notifications glowed on the screen, and Qrow rolled his eyes as he opened them.

All the classic sort, of course. Jimmy bitching at him for the way he made his reports. Glynda correlating her own findings with his, along with updates on Ruby and Yang. Ozpin wishing him well and safe travels. Ruby and Yang gushing over Beacon. Tai updating him on Zwei and the state of Patch. Roman -

He blinked and sat up straighter. Roman messaging him so brazenly either meant that he didn’t care about being found out, or the subject of the message made him care far too much.

_“Coming home soon?”_

Two weeks ago.

A small, guilty smile twitched at Qrow’s lips. “Just got past Vale’s borders,” he texted back, excitement curling in his chest. “You free?”

Several minutes passed before Roman’s reply appeared. “Obviously. When’ll you be home? I’ve been waiting _forever_.”

Qrow looked up, casting his gaze over Vale. Beacon loomed in the distance, tall and proud and shining. He knew the flight length by heart. “If I book it, around two hours tops. Why? You miss me?~”

“Of course. Now you’ve got me waiting, chickadee.”

Qrow swallowed hard, but didn’t deny himself his playful nature. “Anything good for me to come back to?” he teased, hoping Roman would catch the joking nature of his message. The three little dots appeared, and Qrow’s heart skipped a beat. Either Roman got the joke, or Qrow had just gotten himself into a world of trouble when he arrived at Roman’s penthouse.

The message appeared first. “Of course you do. Namely, me.”

_Open picture?_

Qrow’s mouth went dry, and he couldn’t imagine why for the life of him.

Hesitating only a moment, Qrow tapped the little picture icon and shuffled back on his branch, before rolling his eyes at himself. The worst he could get caught by was a Nevermore, and quite frankly, whatever Roman had sent him would make him smile instead of panic.

Qrow flicked his eyes back down to his Scroll, and promptly brought a hand up to cover his mouth. Oh, that bastard.

With the soft evening light cascading through his windows, Roman lounged upon his black leather wingback chair like a king. He’d obviously moved it from behind his desk to the windows to catch the natural light, which shone on his hair like a halo. Amusement and lust sparkled in his eye, which reflected the light of setting sun better than even the highest quality tsavorite. One hand propped his chin up, while the other balanced Melodic Cudgel across his spread legs. From the angle the picture had been shot at, Qrow had ample view up Roman’s legs and into his nethers, hidden behind the luxurious fabric of his dress pants. Roman’s smirk undid every ounce of restraint Qrow had, for it smiled down on him like a benevolent, sadistic king.

A natural pose for Roman, but one that always had Qrow aching for more.

Biting his lower lip, Qrow snapped his gaze across the Valian landscape once more.

“Hour thirty,” Qrow wrote, minimizing the picture. He didn't even care that a flight that fast would exhaust the living daylights out of him.

“There’s a good boy.~”


	25. Day Twenty Five - Gazing Into Each Other's Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is in a similar style to Chapter One. Bit on the shorter side too, sadly.

Stolen glances would always be the norm for them.

It didn’t matter if it was in the dead of night, fleeing a crime scene and chasing down the criminal, one smirking in the darkness and the the other flashing lust. It didn’t matter if it was a walk in the Commercial District of Vale, with protectiveness from one and endless humor from another. It didn’t matter that they started off separate and enemies, with their only camaraderie being a quick flick of the eyes and the softest of smiles.

Roman would never forget the bird that seemed to watch him whenever he ventured too close to the forest, a gleam far too intelligent shining from its eyes. How it watched him, red-eyed and cawing out laughter when he rounded street corners to find no one in particular waiting for him. How those eyes seemed oh so similar to the ones he looked into every night, opened wide in pleasure and pain and every sort of loveliness.

Qrow loved the looks Roman shot at him, when their eyes met over something innocuous - or even something sinful. Far better than James’ glares, or Glynda’s rolls, or Tai’s suspicion. Roman’s looks always consisted of teasing mirth and far too much lust and just enough love to make Qrow risk it all for another kiss. Roman would hold his chin then, winking quickly before closing the gap and letting Qrow melt away into the bliss of knowing someone didn’t hate him.

For Roman, having someone look at him like he made up their entire world had him feeling like he could walk on air. Qrow’s little teasing side-eyes and slight blushes, those coy looks over drinks, those winks when he knew just how much he pissed Roman off. Every move calculated, every look gorgeous, every time his eyes went wide in surprise? Decadent.

For Qrow, much remained the same. Roman kept himself critical, kept himself aloof, until he sat atop Qrow and rocked his world several times over, eyes nearly glowing with the power rush. Roman, quick and deadly and just as sarcastic as he, rolling his eyes so pretty and so petulantly, never one to back down even as his back pressed against a wall. He glared, he twinkled, he shone, and every look made Qrow weak in the knees.

Mornings were different. Soft kisses and leisurely touches and too much passion lingering from the night before had their lips and gazes and bodies interlocked. Middays were slower - glances shot across rooms, distances shortened with eyes never leaving the other’s, blinking in hesitation and fluttering in passion. Nights were kept closed, bound in masks and folds and the loss of air, regained only by sweet kisses and reassuring words and red meeting green.

Neither man had the chance for anything more than a quick look, so busy stealing and killing and saving too many with too little time. Neither man would’ve had it any other way, as it made the times on the balcony all the sweeter. Arms wrapped around each other, hands intertwined, heads leaning against the other’s shoulders. The sun set low in front of them, but their eyes never looked to it.

Stolen glances would always be the norm for them, stolen in the quick of night and the light of day and in the last dying breaths surrounded by the husk of an airship. There had never been, and never would be, time for anything more.


	26. Day Twenty Six - Getting Married

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's heeere! \o/ This is a prompt I was really looking forward to, and I hope I've done it justice. If I ever make a full AU for this I'm sure to expand upon these scenes, but for now, I think they're good. I took inspiration from a few Native American traditions for this piece, so hopefully the tribe is a bit more developed and doesn't come across as just wandering bandits. Side-note: this one is written in the present tense. Thought I'd warn y'all in advance to avoid confusion. It's a longer one as well, woop woop!

“I can’t believe I’m giving you away.”

Qrow looks up at his sister instead of gazing at the mirror. She’s not looking at him, of course, far too fixated on brushing his hair. Qrow turns his eyes back to the mirror, meeting her in the silver sheen. The tribe does not have glass. Bad omens. Raven hates the civilized world.

It had rained last night. A good omen.

“It’s not like I’ll stay around,” Qrow grunts, wincing as Raven tugs sharply on his hair. “You should be happy. Won’t be around to darken your doorstep any longer than necessary.”

The traditional beads hang heavy around his neck, reminding Qrow of just what he had left behind. “At least he’s Mistralian,” Raven huffs, setting the brush down. Both siblings know one shouldn’t speak during the preparation, but both had given up caring a long time ago. Both had given up caring on the day Qrow’s Aura had been unlocked. Both had given up caring when one of Raven’s pranks went too far and nearly killed them both. “It’s a small mercy.”

Qrow spins on the cushion, now kneeling in front of his sister. Raven is kneeling too, and he knows it infuriates her that he ended up taller. Raven fixes his beads, and for a flash he’s jealous that she’s more muscular.

Raven glares up at him, forever in-tune with his mood. “No negativity,” she scolds, leaning back and running her eyes across his body. Appreciation for her own work shines in her red eyes, and Qrow can’t remember the last time she looked at him with pride. Raven doesn’t meet his eyes. “Today is supposed to be _happy._ ” Raven says the word as if it’s dirty.

Qrow holds out his hands, and Raven takes them with with a short exhale. She bows her head, and Qrow wonders if this will be the first time she’s said a traditional prayer since they left for Beacon. “Hey,” Qrow begins, far softer than he originally intended. Raven meets his eyes now. “I’m still your baby brother. You can ruin it if you want to.”

Raven blinks, and Qrow doesn’t miss the shock. He’s deferring to her for the first time in decades, both as the younger sibling and as the unofficial deputy head of the tribe. He knows Vernal fills that place in her heart now. Raven ducks her head, and Qrow smiles when he sees her tiny grin. “You shouldn’t be welcome here,” Raven warns, raising her chin and tightening her grip. “But as you’ve agreed to follow the traditions, I will not object to the union.”

Qrow knows that’s not what she has a problem with. “I’m not going to usurp you,” he reassures her. “If anything, Roman wants to go to Atlas. It’s not like I’m sticking around.”

Raven simply stares at him, and Qrow knows she hates that place as much as he does. It’s almost comforting.

 

Raven stands in the middle of her tribe with Vernal at attention to her left. Her mask is on, and her head tilted back. Hands spread wide, Aura rolling off and into the sky. Somewhere, the trees shake with an otherworldly force of wind. No one cares to explain the omen. It is good, and that is all that matters.

Qrow enters from the north, through the back of the camp and through her tent. Raven lowers her head, and underneath the mask, she smiles. Status befitting of her brother, but not an entrance full of unnecessary pride. He needs her permission for all things, even for a birthright given to every member of the tribe. Raven pretends that Taiyang isn’t across from her, and that their own union had not been so modern. Qrow looks good in traditional wear, beads decorating his neck and arms. One necklace for each kill. One armlet for each decade of devotion. Raven had been merciful and allowed him four. A bare chest to show off the scars of a warrior. A skirt of skins for every animal he’d brought to the tribe in the past week. Each garment is a sigil of honor, and Raven is appeased to see him stare not in disgust at his garb, but in happiness at the man stalking across the dirt to meet him.

Roman enters from the south, through the main entrance of the camp and past every member of her tribe, guards and civilians alike. They have accepted him. He dresses in his own suit, white and pressed. Raven allows it. White is the Branwen color, after all. At his right, his younger sister follows diligently, carrying two gifts. Her eyes glow white when she looks at Raven, and Raven notices Vernal grin wickedly. Roman’s cane thuds against the dirt, baked dry in the afternoon sun. It is is evening now, as is traditional. He eyes Harbinger on Qrow’s back, and the box in his hands.

The men meet in front of Raven, and she removes her mask. Vernal takes it, as is proper. Raven lays a hand on each of their shoulders, and she takes a deep breath. “Will you harm each other?” she asks, and her voice carries throughout the tribe.

“No,” they answer. This is the compromise on the vows that Raven will allow to enter her tribe. Qrow shifts his box into his right hand, unhooking Harbinger and passing it to Roman. It’s only symbolic, but Roman hands over Melodic Cudgel in turn.

“Will you serve each other?” she asks, and pretends not to notice as their eyes sharpen in lust.

“Yes,” they chorus, and both kneel in the dirt. A small spark of disappointment shoots through Raven as Roman continues to be unaffected. She moves her hands to their heads, Aura glowing. She could kill them here, and everyone knows it. Neither man entered the Tribe with Aura, as tradition had always dictated.

Neo moves in between them, bowing before Raven and Vernal. Raven raises her eyebrow, and Neo holds out the first gift. Bride price. She moves the lid off of the first box, and Raven nods in acceptance at the sight of thousands of Lien. It doesn’t mean much, but it would be good for trade. And Roman needs to give something in return for taking her brother away.

The second box she hands to Roman, and moves back to his side after she passes the first to Vernal.

“Will you give all that you have, even your Aura?”

“Always.”

Roman moves first, setting Harbinger down on his left side and next to Raven. Giving what he has taken back to the tribe. He places the gift down in front of Qrow, and Qrow puts Melodic Cudgel to his left. He gives the outsider the chance to integrate himself to the members of the tribe that he’s only joining in name. He hands Roman his gift, and Roman pulls the top off.

Raven’s eyes widen.

It’s a silver bracelet, inlaid with teardrops of turquoise. Polished to a mirror sheen, each gem handpicked. Raven knows exactly which vein they come from. What really kicks Raven in the gut, though, is the feather that hangs from the silver among the stones. Qrow’s own. Roman leans forward, kissing Qrow in thanks. As he pulls back, Qrow takes the bracelet and places it around Roman’s left wrist. The tribe murmurs, and Raven looks to Vernal. Both women close their eyes. Thunder rumbles, and everyone falls silent. Qrow and Roman ignore it.

Qrow moves the lid of his box to the side, cocking his head in confusion when one of Roman’s elegant cigar boxes is revealed. He glances up at Roman, but flicks open the latch of the case anyway. The lid flips back, and Qrow gasps. He reaches in with shaking hands, pulling out a tiny silver bird. It’s welded onto a little silver pumpkin, nesting in the stem. Qrow weighs the bird in his hand, tossing it in the air and catching it in his palm with a solid smack. Roman’s symbol is etched into the bottom of the pumpkin, and the wings are cut in the shape of Qrow’s emblem. He looks up, mouth forming into a huge smile, and doesn’t hesitate to close the distance between himself and Roman in a kiss.

Raven sighs and removes her hands, spreading them over the pair. Her voice is strong, and Qrow looks up as he and Roman separate. That prayer. . . Raven speaks in the old tongue, the one Mama and Papa used when the twins were small. Qrow ducks his head, pulling back and tucking the charm into one of the skirts’ pockets. When Raven steps away, they both rise.

Qrow hands Roman Melodic Cudgel.

Roman hands Qrow Harbinger.

“In the name of the Gods, you are wed,” Raven finishes in Common, lowering her hands to her sides. Neo is the first to clap, her little face scrunched up in happiness. The tribe and the guests are soon to follow her lead, the noise echoing into the night.

 

The shattered moon hangs high in the sky, and the newlyweds lounge on the porch of Raven’s tent. She sits on the other side, Vernal at her left. The members of her tribe mingle near the bonfire, eating the venison and padwa Qrow caught earlier in the week. Qrow’s family is allowed to sit around the porch, only by right of hierarchy due to being blood related to the twins. For once, outsiders are not relegated to the entrance.

Food is spread over low tables and blankets, but Qrow and Roman took their fill earlier in the night. Roman had been allowed to mix in his favorites with Raven’s traditional meals, and both sides had thankfully enjoyed it. Now, the pair lie together, bodies intertwined under the stars. Roman is on his back, with Qrow atop him, hands not wandering but instead clinging to each other. Lips not touching but instead whispering sweet nothings, promises to a shattered moon and a shattered world.

“You must be cold.”

“Better than the nights out here with no fire.”

A moment passed.

“Have you ever wondered what it’s like out here?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me if you ever want me involved in your heritage.”

A moment passed.

“Roman?”

“Qrow?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”


	27. Day Twenty Seven - Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another gift chapter, right after 'Getting Married', huh? Sadly, this one is a bit shorter and a bit more subdued. However, it does include the mention of WKD, which is basically British vodka, just as a heads up.

Roman sighed as he stretched, rolling his shoulders back. Neo blinked up at him, waving an impatient hand in front of his face when he didn’t give her a second glance. Roman refocused, giving Neo a half-hearted smile as the elevator doors opened before them. She pouted as they exited, hanging her parasol in the crook of her arm as she placed her hands on her hips. Roman kept walking, however, soon unlocking the door to his penthouse and ushering Neo inside.

With a silent groan and roll of the eyes, Neo walked into his home and put down her parasol, Roman soon following suit. The door was locked, Melodic Cudgel set down, and accessories put away. Neo tapped her foot, and Roman shot her a small smile.

“What do you want from me, Neo?” he asked, tiredness creeping into his voice. “As much as I’d like to celebrate, it’s not like there’s much we can do.” Neo puffed her cheeks up, tagging after Roman and hopping up on the island counter. Her little legs swung in the air, and she smiled as Roman passed her a drink. Neo took a sip and pointed at the fridge.

Roman raised an eyebrow and sat his own glass down, putting the bottle back. Neo smirked as Roman opened the fridge to a surprised little gasp. “Oh, Neo, you didn’t have to,” Roman said, leaning back and letting the pretty pink cake come into view. “Where’d you get it?”

Neo took another sip of her passion-fruit WKD, shrugging in innocence. She sat her drink down and signed out that she stole it from some bakery in Vale. “Got some orange chocolates too,” she signed, pointing at the icebox. “You’ll like them.” Roman chuckled in response, pulling out the cake and sliding it across the island counter to Neo. A knife, two plates, and two forks were set down next, and Neo cocked her head.

“You cut. I’ll put on some music.”

Neo nodded and Roman sauntered his way over to the radio. He pulled out his Scroll as he crossed his living room, frowning at the the message on the screen. It wasn’t surprising that it was from Qrow, but the contents were something else entirely.

“ _Hey babe. Sorry I couldn’t make it. Surrounded by Grimm rn. Put something in for you. Remember that station you always liked? Tune in at 17:30. Happy birthday._ ”

Roman blinked several times, shaking his head. Leave it to Qrow to figure out his birthday and his favorite station without ever asking - especially while in a life threatening situation. Roman looked over to the clock - three minutes of. Roman flicked on the station and walked back to Neo as the song that was playing came to a close. Neo turned at his footsteps, beaming and handing him a slice of cake.

“Thanks, Neo,” he said, taking a seat on one of his plush stools. Neo couldn’t sing very well, after all, so they’d done away with that birthday stereotype many a year ago. She quickly signed him a ‘happy birthday’, before digging into her own cake. Roman took a bite himself, chuckling at the flavor. Chocolate and vanilla marble with strawberry icing.

As Roman reached across the table to grab his passion-fruit WKD, the announcer on the radio spoke in a clear, strong voice. “A caller earlier in the day asked for the next song; apparently a birthday gift for his sweetheart! How cute! By the Gods, we could all use that level of romance in our lives, don’t you think?” Her co-hosts murmured in agreement. Roman froze for a second, and Neo perked up from where she was already halfway through her slice. Roman allowed himself a small smile before settling back down with his drink. “So here’s the next one, apparently with love from a little chickadee to a pumpkin: Crash Into Me!”

Neo’s legs swung in time to the tune, and Roman ducked his head with a grin. Neo tapped his shoulder, and Roman looked up. She’d set her plate to the side.

“He’s very good to you, isn’t he?” Neo asked.

Roman’s lips twitched into a smile and he leaned back against the edge of the counter. “Yeah. We’ve had our fights, but. . . I’ve never had anyone like him before. Qrow’s wonderful.”

Neo nodded and picked up her plate, balancing it on her lap so she had a free hand to pat Roman on the head. “You two seem cute together,” she signed, before picking up her fork once more. Roman snickered.

“We’re damned hot, excuse you.” Neo giggled silently, spearing a forkful of cake.

_In a boy’s dream. . . In a boy’s dream. . .~_

Roman sighed and picked up his own slice of cake, warmth spreading through his soul. As much of an ass as Qrow tended to be, his did have his delicate moments, and Roman treasured each and every one of them. The only pity was that he hadn’t been able to be present - though the present itself touched Roman with its thoughtfulness. As did the tastiness of Neo’s stolen cake. She always knew how to cheer him up.

_Hike up your skirt a little more. . . And show the world to me~_

Roman smirked as the song drew to a close, unable to keep from planning just how he was going to repay Qrow for his kindness the next time they had the chance to meet up.


	28. Day Twenty Eight - Doing Something Ridiculous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had myself a bit of trouble with this one, but I'm proud of the end result. I'm also suuuper excited for tomorrow's chapter, so look forward to that one!

“Honestly, I don’t understand why you’ve dragged me out here,” Roman sighed, leaning against one of the racks of clothes. “I know a _lot_ of places that are far better than this.”

Qrow shrugged and continued flipping through the hangers of decal’d shirts, frowning as none of them caught his eye. “Yeah, but I like thrift stores. There’s always something special about them - stuff you just can’t find anywhere else.”

Roman sighed and rolled his eyes. He knew Qrow felt more comfortable in a place like this; one that was all low-key and informal and possessed a style that was just as ratty as Qrow himself. But as much as Qrow loved places like these, Roman felt equally as out of his element. He shifted in discomfort, casting an annoyed gaze around the store. Only a few other customers milled about, but that didn’t do much to assuage him.

With a groan, Qrow shoved the hangers back into place and moved over to another rack. Cane clacking, Roman dutifully followed, but the frown on his lips remained. “Besides,” Qrow began, and Roman looked up at him. Qrow shot Roman an over-the-shoulder half-smile. “I know you like shopping and I don’t, so. . . Compromise?”

Roman blew out a puff of air, tempted to simply leave Qrow to his own devices while he went out for a smoke on the sidewalk. “Compromise,” he agreed halfheartedly. Qrow grimaced and turned back to the racks, and Roman winced. Great, he’d just shot down one of Qrow’s rare attempts to actually spend time with him. Roman always chalked up Qrow’s hesitance to go out on dates as Hunter hangups, so he couldn’t just up and ruin Qrow’s attempt to try to break free from that shell.

“What exactly are you looking for?” Roman asked after an awkward moment had passed.

Qrow peered up from where he’d been studying a shirt, dropping it with an unimpressed frown. “Just anything tacky,” he said with another shrug. “It’s real fun to embarrass Ruby and Yang.” Qrow’s lips twitched up into a smile, and Roman cocked his head.

“I don’t think I’ve _ever_ seen you wear anything but that shirt,” he accused, and Qrow ducked his head with his own embarrassed chuckle.

“Yeah. Hunter garb. It’s easier to just wear the same shit over and over again instead of ruining new clothes,” Qrow explained, grabbing the hem of his shirt and running a thumb over the seam. “I’ve probably darned this thing like twenty times, at least.”

Roman blinked. “I didn’t know you could _sew_.”

Qrow nodded, switching to an adjacent rack. “We didn’t discriminate on gender in the tribe. Everyone had to know how to do everything in case someone else got sick,” Qrow explained, flicking through the clothes with velocity. “The skills kinda just stuck with me.”

“I see,” Roman said with a polite nod.

The pair fell into awkward silence once more.

A few more stifling moments passed. The urge to go and take a smoke rose in Roman’s chest like Remnant’s most insidious vine.

“Gotcha!” Qrow said, breaking Roman out of his bored miasma. He held some kind of a black shirt in his hands, but flipped it over before Roman could read the words. The back was blank, and Qrow spent the next few moments checking the seams, shoulders, and insides. “It’s perfect,” Qrow announced, folding it over his arm and beaming at Roman.

“Are we going to leave now?” Roman asked, raising an eyebrow. Qrow shook his head.

“Nope. Need to find one for you too.”

Something sparked in Roman’s chest. “You’re shopping for me?”

Qrow nodded sharply. “Yep. Be rude if I just dragged you out here and didn’t get you anything,” he said, winking at Roman. Roman chuckled and ducked his head to hide his blush. “I’ll be sure to get ya something nice.”

“Thank you,” Roman demurred, giving Qrow a polite nod.

A few more minutes passed, and Roman couldn’t help but smile as he watched Qrow grow more and more frustrated as he wandered throughout the store. Eventually, after what felt like ten minutes, Qrow’s entire face lit up in joy. He picked up a thick black sweater with white lettering, checking the back before grinning wickedly.

“Hey, Rome!” he called across the store, motioning Roman over. Roman rolled his eyes with no small degree of fondness, cane clacking as he stalked across the tile. Qrow shoved the sweater in Roman’s direction as he approached, smiling in glee. “Look!”

“Yes?” Roman asked, taking the sweater and appraising it with a critical eye. Soon, a smirk made its way over his face as he read the words, and he flicked his gaze up to Qrow.

“It’s lovely,” Roman said, pulling a glove off so he could feel the fabric. The material was soft, and not at all scratchy, and most importantly, didn’t shed when he pulled on in the inside. But the real killer were the words themselves. Split between the front and back sides of the sweater was the phrase “ _I'm A Luxury Few Can Afford_ ”.

Roman flicked his eyes up to Qrow, who was grinning like a fool at the compliment. “Well, what’d you get?” he asked.

Qrow held up the tank top, smirking. On the black fabric were the words “ _If I Was A Bird I Know Who I’d Shit On_ ”, along with a decal of a flying pigeon.

“It fits you,” Roman joked, shooting Qrow a smile. He sighed and looked down at the garments, shaking their heads. “But they’re still ridiculous.”

“Exxxactly!” Qrow crowed, tossing the tank top over his shoulder. “That’s the entire point. Tacky fashion.”

Roman rolled his eyes, but followed Qrow to the till nonetheless. “And where am I supposed to wear this to?” he asked dryly.

Qrow shrugged and pulled out his wallet, moving his own purchase off to the side as Roman set the sweater down. “Wherever you want. Around the house, piss people off, by Dust, just do what I do - wear ‘em to mess with family.”

“If anything, Neo’d want her own,” Roman sighed, shaking his head. Qrow snorted.

He took the bag and the change, taking Roman’s hand as he pulled the kingpin out of the store. “Maybe you should come around Patch then to avoid that,” Qrow said, shooting Roman a sly smile. “We’d certainly turn a few heads.~”

“I think your nieces would rather kill me,” Roman said blithely.

Qrow rolled his eyes and slung an arm around Roman’s waist. “I can keep Ruby and Yang at bay. If anything, we just need to kiss to shut ‘em up.”

Roman gave Qrow a flat look. “Would that even work?”

Qrow frowned. “Prrrobably. You might need to work on your dodging.”

Roman winced.


	29. Day Twenty Nine - Doing Something Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm super proud of how this one came out. I'm also excited for the next chapter as well, so it's another one to look forward to.~ Inspired by JapanCrate, if you couldn't tell.

“Hey, babe, you got a package,” Qrow called into the penthouse, kicking the pre-locked door shut behind him. He carried the box into the kitchen, setting it down on Roman’s island counter. “Looks pretty fancy. Did you order something?”

Roman stood in the doorway of his study, frowning as he leaned against the frame. “I don’t _remember_ ordering anything,” he said slowly, beginning to walk down the hall. As Roman made his way down the stairs and across the living room, Qrow sent a small pulse of Aura through the box. Nothing inside reacted.

“Whatever’s in there isn’t alive, or made of Dust,” Qrow reported, moving around the island counter to give Roman space to investigate. He opened Roman’s fridge and grabbed a beer from the stash he’d made within, hip-checking the door shut. Qrow turned around to see Roman removing the wrapping, and he raised his eyebrows in question. “Anything good?”

Roman picked up a letter, remaining silent instead of answering. “Neo’s gotten me a gift,” he said, shaking his head with a fond smile. Roman set the letter off to the side, and tossed the wrapping into a nearby trashcan.

“Gotten or stolen?” Qrow asked dryly, taking a pull from his beer.

Roman shot him a flat look, flipping open the lid. “It’s apparently from one of the vendors at Vytal,” Roman explained, choosing to ignore that particular avenue of conversation. “Some kind of mystery box devoted to the different foods of the four Kingdoms. Real popular with tourists.” Roman sorted through the candies, laying them out on the counter. “This is the Mistrali one.”

“Oooh,” Qrow said, perking up and standing at attention. “I haven’t seen some of these in _years_. Might have to get one for Ruby and Yang.”

“They’re decently expensive,” Roman said, picking up the guide and passing it over to Qrow. “But worth it. It’s been a long time since I’ve had something Mistralian.” Roman held a small rectangular box in his head, testing the weight. “Like these.”

Qrow’s eyes went wide. “Oh, by the Brothers, is that pocky? I used to love that as a kid.”

Roman cocked his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever tried it. Never had the chance.”

Qrow set the guide and beer down on the table and leaned over it, motioning for Roman to pass over the box. He did, and Qrow immediately opened it and tore the silvery packaging within asunder. “When the traveling merchants came by the tribe, Raven and I would always sneak around back and raid their supplies,” Qrow admitted with an embarrassed smile. “She always went for the chocolate stuff - I liked the cream.”

“Fascinating,” Roman said, rolling his eyes. He reached over and took a pocky, taking a bite. “But they’re just chocolate covered cookie sticks, right? Nothing to get too worked up over.” Roman appraised what was left of his stick with a critical eye and an appeased hum. “The dark chocolate’s quality, I’ll give them that.”

Qrow, however, smirked. “You clearly don’t know what you do with pocky.”

Roman gave Qrow a _look_ before taking another. “Eat them, I assume.”

Qrow stood, taking the box with him and ignoring Roman’s indignant grumble. “Well, yeah,” he said, plopping himself down on Roman’s couch, beer forgotten. Qrow kicked off his shoes and laid his head against the armrest. “But there’s a game.”

“A game,” Roman repeated flatly, following Qrow and settling himself down on the couch by his boyfriend’s legs. He couldn’t resist glaring. “If you get crumbs on my couch, I’ll kill you.”

Qrow waved him off and took a stick for himself. “It’s kinda like chicken,” he began. “Raven used to get really pissed at me for playing it with the girls in the tribe. Going to Beacon put a stop to that real quick.” Qrow chuckled to himself, before refocusing on Roman with a smile. “Basically, one person puts one end in their mouth, and the other person,” he pointed at Roman with the stick, “takes the other end, and both people keep eating - either until the stick breaks or they meet in the middle. It’s basically a kissing game.”

“I _could_ just kiss you,” Roman pointed out.

“Yeah, but this is more fun,” Qrow said, shuffling into a more comfortable position on the couch. He placed the stick between his lips, biscuit-end first. Roman sighed and leant over Qrow, bracing an arm on his chest. Qrow’s eyes lit up as Roman took the other end between his teeth.

Qrow closed his eyes, hoping Roman would do the same - and more importantly, that his Semblance wouldn’t act up and shatter the stick. As the pair ate, Qrow felt Roman’s breath on his skin, and then his kiss on his lips. Qrow swallowed, reaching a hand up to tangle in Roman’s hair. Roman pulled back with his own coy smile, finishing off his end of the pocky.

“Chaste,” Qrow complained, far too unhappy with the brevity of the kiss.

Roman cut his eyes over to the still very full box of pocky. “Want to keep going?~”

Qrow grinned, reaching over and grabbing another stick. “You _know_ I do.”


	30. Day Thirty - Doing Something Sexy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No actual sex in this chapter (saving that for the NSFW prompt set in April), but heavily BDSM-themed. Dom Roman, Sub Qrow. If you're unfamiliar with cigar service or BDSM in general, please read this before reading this chapter: https://jenniferbene.com/2016/11/ask-me-anything-cigar-service/. I went with this subset of BDSM because I feel like Roman would be really, really into it.

_Saturday, March 2nd, PGW78, Roman’s Balcony, Upper Class Section, Vale, 21:47 Hours._

 

Qrow shivered in the cold night air, biting the inside of his cheek. He and Roman had just returned from a night on the town, and now rested easy on the balcony of Roman’s penthouse. Or at least, Qrow had _thought_ the night would go easy. Get home, get undressed, fuck. Simple as that. But no, Roman just _always_ had to be able to read his mood and take him by surprise. And now Qrow leaned on the railing of the balcony, rolling one of Roman’s expensive cigars between his fingers as he tried not to have a heart attack.

Roman sat across from him on one of the white wire wicker chairs with his head cocked and his lips curled into a manic grin. Qrow _knew_ the bastard got off on this, and the worst part was that, well. . . Qrow got off on it too. Roman balanced his head on his fist, eyes sparkling with amusement, clearly waiting for Qrow to quit stalling. He wrapped his fingers around the cigar, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. Right. He could do this.

At least Roman hadn’t ordered this little show _in the bar’s smoking lounge_.

Qrow dug into the pocket of his suit, pushing past his Scroll and his keys to find the curious little trinket that Roman had passed him when they’d entered the penthouse. Qrow pulled the cigar cutter out and into the open, wetting his lips and doing his best to ignore Roman’s searing gaze. He brought the cigar up to the cutter, holding it at a forty-five degree angle, just like he’d been taught. Qrow shifted on the balls of his feet as the ghostly pain of past slaps made themselves known, fighting past his budding arousal.

He double-checked the edge of the cigar, nodding. Yep, head. Qrow positioned the cigar in the hole, snipping it off at the cap. He turned the cigar, positioning the cap again at a forty-five degree angle and cutting it once more. Roman liked good air-flow, and Qrow couldn’t blame him. Qrow examined the cut, checking to make sure he’d left enough shoulder so the head -and thusly the rest of the cigar- wouldn’t unravel.

Due to his Aura being broken before they’d gone out, nothing went wrong.

Qrow swallowed. The next part never failed to torture his taste buds, but in all honesty, he’d had worse liquors. Qrow rolled his shoulders back so he stood at full height, ignoring the messiness of his undone black jacket and unravelled crimson tie. Roman liked him messy, anyway. Closing his eyes, Qrow toasted the cigar, wetting as much of the paper as he could. He kept the amount of time the cigar spent in his mouth brief, but that didn’t stop him from putting on a show. Qrow flipped to the other end of the cigar after he’d basically fellated the head, now working on the back end. Qrow made the mistake of opening his eyes, meeting Roman’s across the balcony.

Hazy with lust, Roman’s green eyes never left Qrow’s mouth as he spun the cigar between his teeth. He’d learned long ago not to get it too wet, and pulled it out of his mouth with a slight blush. He ducked his gaze to Roman’s body so he wouldn’t have to meet those intense eyes, but the sight of Roman growing ever more aroused from his performance only made Qrow’s mouth go dry.

“Good boy,” Roman said, and tossed Qrow his lighter.

Qrow caught it without any trouble, of course, but the praise still warmed his soul.

Flipping open and on the lighter, Qrow held the foot of the cigar near the flame. The heat of past mistakes warmed his rear, and Qrow kept careful to not burn the wrapping. The paper crackled, and smoke twined its way into the night. When the foot burned orange, Qrow moved the cigar through the radiant heat to to toast the rest of it. Roman gave an approving hum as Qrow made sure to rotate the cigar as he went, not letting any of the paper burn. When the head of the cigar had been toasted properly, Qrow tucked the lighter into his pocket.

Qrow stepped forward and fell to a knee, a thrill running through him. Roman liked acting like a king, and Qrow enjoyed serving him. Something in the back of his mind was slipping, his chest tightening as he raised the cigar on his hand. Head bowed, smoking end toward Roman, eyes cast to the floor so his lust-wide pupils wouldn’t give him away.

With delicate precision, Roman grabbed the cigar and took a practice drag to see if Qrow had toasted it properly. “Perfect,” he said, placing the warm cigar back in Qrow’s hand. “Light it.”

When Roman went full Dom, he didn’t talk much. Neither of them did, really, but the short, crisp way he spoke never failed to flip a switch in Qrow’s head. He took out Roman’s lighter and sat back on his haunches, flicking his gaze up to Roman. He looked impeccable, as usual, in a pressed white suit and orange tie. Roman raised his eyebrow, and Qrow swiftly got back to business, his heart skipping a beat. Submission curled in his chest, but he had a task to not fuck up.

Taking a breath, Qrow lit the foot of the cigar. After a few moments and a few blows, the cigar burned a merry orange. Qrow had himself a test draw, wincing at the taste but determining that it indeed had been lit well. Qrow tucked the lighter back into his pocket, lowering his head and lifting the cigar above him upon one hand. The burning edge hung off his palm, and the smoking end faced Roman. Proper form, just as Roman liked.

Roman didn’t hesitate to take the cigar, pulling deep on the smoke as soon as he’d grabbed it. Qrow peeked up from under his lashes, not daring to actually raise his head, even though he desperately wanted to. Roman’s eyes were closed as he blew smoke into the darkening Valian sky, and Qrow loved the way it halo’d around his head.

His eyes remained closed as he spoke. “Sit,” Roman commanded, tapping his thigh.

Qrow shuffled over, placing his head on Roman’s thigh. He shifted a bit on the concrete, moving to sit side-saddle. Roman’s right hand carded through his hair, and Qrow sighed, eyes fluttering closed in bliss.

Roman’s smoke curled into the night, and Qrow slipped deeper and deeper. Soon enough he lost himself in a fog thicker than Roman’s smoke, high on subservience and joy. The simple reassurance that Roman sat above him, cared enough to stay by him, enjoyed him so much that he used him. . . Qrow’s head swam, and he knew he couldn’t say no to anything Roman asked.

“Chickadee.”

Qrow’s head snapped up, red eyes wide and questioning. Roman nodded to Qrow’s earlier position, and no words needed to be spoken. Over the months they’d been together, Qrow had memorized all of Roman’s little signals, and he knew he was meant to kneel. Qrow shuffled over to the spot directly in front of Roman and held his hands out.

Excitement curled in Qrow’s stomach, and he wet his lips as the anticipation only grew. Roman looked down on him, a master indulgent, and Qrow bit back a whimper as he realized just how tight his pants were. Roman gave him a small smile and tapped out the edge of the cigar on his palm, spreading the ash against his skin.

For a second, Qrow didn’t even register the heat, content to just bask in Roman’s gaze. However, when Roman tapped his head, Qrow refocused and rolled the ash between his palms and to dissipate the fire. Too many missions and not enough Aura had taught him just how bad blisters could be. When the ash had suitably cooled, Qrow placed his palms together and held them out to Roman once more, begging with only his eyes.

‘ _Burn me_ ,’ he wanted to say, but he didn’t even have to ask.

Cigar betwixt his lips, Roman bent forward and took Qrow’s hands in his own. Their eyes met. Searing heat flared through Qrow’s palms as Roman pressed his hands together, and something inside Qrow snapped.

With a moan he dropped his head, possessed by a full-body shiver. Roman spared him a moment, gently petting Qrow’s head before retracting his touch. He pulled back, removing the cigar from his lips and leaning comfortable in the chair. “Good boy. Dump the ash.”

Qrow pushed himself to his feet by strength of his legs alone, hands still clasped around the burning gray in his hands. He stumbled to the railing, letting the ash fly into the sky. Qrow pressed his hands against the solid steel, letting the coolness seep into his skin. After a moment he turned back around, slipping to his knees in front of Roman.

For once, the sass and anger and bitterness had drained away from Qrow. The Maidens, the magic, his family, his stress. . . All of it, gone. All he had to do was sit there and let Roman pet his hair and take Roman’s ash and maybe get between Roman’s legs if he asked prettily enough. All in all, it was the best deal Qrow had ever taken, and one he never knew he needed.

Roman pressed two fingers underneath his chin, and Qrow dutifully lifted his head. He held the cigar in his fingers, a curious look in his eyes. Something fuzzy raised itself in the back of Qrow’s mind, but a louder part of him knew that he was safe in Roman’s care. As much as he hurt Qrow, it never strayed from the beautiful kind that always made him hard. Roman wouldn’t shotgun him or blow smoke in his face or burn him with the end of the cigar.

No, he said something far sexier.

“We’re going inside.”


	31. Day Thirty One - Bonus/Optional: Doing Something Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge. Most likely all Magpie (Qrow/Roman) since the ship doesn't get enough love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy did I have some trouble with this one. Took me all afternoon and evening to even think of a plot for this one, so credit and thanks to my brother Zalmorick for giving me an idea. This is, of course, the finale for this series, even if it is a bit short. However, I will be posting a NSFW version of these come April, so you all can have that to look forward to! But in all seriousness, thank you all so much for your kudos and comments, as each one made me smile harder than I ever have before. I truly appreciate all of your support and feedback, as it only inspired me to do better!

“Chiiickadee,” Roman trilled out, entering the apartment. Tickets burned hot in his left breast pocket, but the smile on his face remained. “I’ve got something for us.”

Qrow sat up from where he lounged on the couch, cocking his head. He opened his mouth to speak, before closing it with a frown and flicking off the TV. “Not too sure I like that smile,” Qrow said, crossing his arms. “You’ve been gone for a few hours.”

Roman waved him off and plopped down next to him on the couch, practically vibrating with joy. “You know how you’re fiiinally getting into my side of things?” he asked, wrapping an arm around Qrow’s waist and laying his head on his shoulder. Qrow stiffened and shot Roman the side-eye, but nonetheless nodded. “Well, I managed to find something to get you a little more. . . _into it_.” With a flourish, Roman reached into his coat pocket and pulled out two shiny black tickets, placing them on his crystal table.

Qrow reached out and grabbed a ticket, bringing it up to his eyes so he could actually read the damn thing. The lettering spelled out the date, time, and name of the cl - Qrow’s eyes widened and he sucked in a breath once the name registered in his mind. “Roman,” he breathed, snapping his gaze up. “Where did you get these?”

Glossy golden letters spelled out _Old High Vale’s Company Club - Brewing, BDSM, and More_! The date was for tonight, but what was infinitely more terrifying was the time: within the next three hours.

Qrow’s mouth went dry.

Roman patted Qrow’s hip, almost condescendingly. “Details, details. More important thing is: are you free?”

“I - yeah,” Qrow said, too frazzled by the sudden gift to give a proper reply. He wet his lips and clenched a hand around the ticket to repress his nerves. He knew how expensive they were, how intense some clubs could get, how . . . how _inexperienced_ he was, compared to Roman. Qrow ran a thumb over the letters, closing his eyes. “What happens if I - what happens if something goes wrong?”

Roman shrugged and stood, rolling his shoulders. “Then it’ll be a learning experience. It’s not like I’ll be losing money, anyway.”

Something clicked in Qrow’s mind, and he looked over at Roman with a fire in his eyes. “You stole these?!” Roman chuckled and bent down, pressing a kiss on Qrow’s head in an unsuccessful attempt to pacify him.

“Don’t worry about it, chickadee. I’ve got everything under control. Now, let’s get you dressed.”


End file.
